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HARPER'S 



NEW YORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD 



GUIDE BOOK: 



CONTAINING 



A DESCRIPTION OF THE SCENERY, RIVERS, TOWNS, VILLAGES, 
AND MOST IMPORTANT WORKS ON THE ROAD 



WITH ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY-SIX ENGRAVINGS, 
BY LOSSING AND BARRITT. 

FROM ORIGINAL SKETCHES MADE EXPRESSLY FOR THIS WORK. 

BY WILLIAM MACLEOD. 



EIGHTH EDITION, REVISED, ENLARGED, AND CORRECTED TO THE 
PRESENT DATE. 




N E W Y R K : 

HARPER. & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, 

FRANKLIN SQUARE. 



1855-6. 



Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year one thousand 

eight hundred and fifty-five, by 

Harper & Brothers, 

m the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Southern District 
of New York. 






PREFACE. 



The object of this work is to furnish the traveler on 
the New York and Erie Rail-road with that kind of in- 
formation which every one passing over a new route de- 
sires to have in his possession. In securing' this, we not 
only add to the pleasures of rail-road traveling, but re- 
lieve it of much of the tediousness which is so often the 
companion of a long ride. 

The work, it is hoped, will find favor not only with 
travelers, but with those who take an interest in the 
progress of internal improvements, of which our road is 
one of the most important, being the longest rail-road 
owned by one company and under one management in 
the world. 

The engravings form a prominent feature of the book. 
The sketches for them, as well as the accompanying de- 
scriptions, were all furnished expressly for this work by Mr. 
William MacLeod, and, with the exception of two or three, 
have never before been published. They are intended to 
be portraits of the scenery and objects represented. 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 



No. Page 

1. Piermont, from the Hudson 22 

2. Works at Piermont 23 

3. View at Piermont, looking east 25 

4. View at Piermont, looking north 20 

5. Station at Blauveltville, looking east 27 

6. View looking toward Thorn's Cottage 28 

7. Thorn's Cottage, near Clarkstown, looking north 29 

8. Suflern's Station 30 

9. Intrenchments near Suflern's 31 

10. Washington's Head-quarters, Suflern's, looking west 32 

11. The Tom Mountain, from the road, looking northeast 33 

12. Ramapo Works, Station on the left 34 

13. Ramapo, from the Bridge, looking west 36 

14. Station at Sloatsburg 37 

15. Mountain Stream and Ruin with an Arch 39 

1G. Monroe Works, looking west 41 

17. Turner's, looking west 43 

18. Monroe, looking east 44 

19. Station at Oxford, Sugar Loaf in the distance 4G 

20. Chester, looking west 49 

21. Gray Court Meadows, from Chester 49 

22. Sugar Loaf, from the Chester Station 50 

23. Goshen 51 

24. Station on the Walkill at New Hampton 53 

25. Middletown Station 54 

26. Middletown, from the north 55 

27. View from Howell's 56 

28. Eastern face of the Shawangunk, from near Otisville 56 

29. Otisville, from the west 57 

30. West side of Shawangunk 58 

31. Wall Embankment near Otisville 59 

32. Looking toward the Neversink Valley and Port Jervis 59 



M LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 

No. Page 

33. Cuddebackville, on the Delaware and Hudson Canal, looking 

north GO 

34. Thorough Cut near Port Jervis 60 

35. The Neversink, Port Jervis in the distance 62 

36. View near the Slate Rock Cutting, looking north 63 

37. Bridge at Port Jervis 64 

38. Port Jervis 64 

39. Approach to the Station at Delaware, looking west 6f> 

40. Station at Delaware, looking northwest 65 

41. Canal Bridge near Port Jervis 68 

42. Approach to the Bridge over the Canal 68 

43. From the Bridge over the Canal, near the Glass-house Rocks 68 

44. Saw-mill Rift Bridge, with Canal, looking north 69 

45. From Saw-mill Rift Bridge, looking west 69 

46. Saw-mill Rift Rocks, near the Bridge, looking east 70 

47. Near the (ircat Bridge on the Delaware 70 

48. View from Stairway Brook Station, Delaware and Hudson 

Canal * 72 

49. Approach to Pond Eddy, with Canal 74 

50. Hock Cutting on the Delaware 75 

51. The great Rock Cutting near Shohola 76 

52. Piece of great Rock Cutting near Shohola, looking south . . 77 

53. Rock Cutting near Shohola 78 

54. Rock Cutting near Shohola, looking west 78 

55. Bridge over the Shohola 78 

50. From Shohola Bridge toward Barryville 79 

57. Barryville, from Shohola Station 80 

58. Delaware Bridge 81 

59. Delaware Bridge Station 82 

GO. Narrowsburgh, looking west 82 

f>!. Narrowsburgh, from the opposite side of the Delaware, look- 
ing north 83 

62. Bridge on the Delaware at Narrowsburgh 84 

03. Cochecton, from the Station, looking east 87 

64. Cochecton, looking west 87 

65. Station at Calicoon, looking west 89 

GG. On the Calicoon, Delaware in the distance, looking south. . 90 

G7. Hankins Station 93 

08. A rafting Station near Hankins 94 

G9. From Equinunk Station 95 

70. Ecpiinunk, from the road 96 

71 . Stockport 97 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. VII 

•No- Page 

72. On the Delaware, near the junction of its branches, below 

Chehocton 98 

73. East Branch of the Delaware, near Chehocton, looking east 98 

74. Station at Chehocton 99 

75. Chehocton, from the road above the Station 100 

76. West Branch of the Delaware, after leaving Chehocton, 

looking south 102 

77. West Branch of the Delaware, looking west 102 

78. Near Cochecton 102 

79. The approach to Deposit, from the east 103 

80. Deposit Station, looking west 103 

81. Deposit, from the west 104 

82. Beginning to ascend Summit from Deposit 105 

83. Gravel Bank, four miles from Deposit 10G 

84. Near the Gravel Bank, four miles from Deposit, looking west 100 

85. Curved Embankment near the Gravel Pit 107 

86. Half way between Summit and Deposjt 107 

87. Scene near Gulf Summit, looking north 108 

88. Great Cut at Gulf Summit, from the east 108 

89. From the top of Summit, Snow effect 109 

90. Cutting at Summit, from the west Ill 

91. Cascade Bridge, from the east 112 

92. Cascade Bridge, from below 113 

93. West Abutment of Cascade Bridge 114 

94. Cascade Bridge, from the Quarry, looking south 114 

95. Cascade Bridge, from the opposite side of the river 11G 

96. First View of Susquehanna, beyond Cascade Bridge 118 

97. First View of the Starrucca Viaduct, from the east 120 

'•8. The Starrucca Viaduct, looking west 121 

99. The Starrucca Viaduct, from the opposite side of the Sus- 

ouehanna 122 

100. Lanesborough, and Trestle Bridge 123 

101. Starrucca, from the west 124 

102. View of the Starrucca, Lanesborough, Trestle Bridge, &c., 

from above the Rail-road 12G 

103. The Works at Susquehanna, from the Station 128 

104. Double Bridge over the Susquehanna at Lanesborough . . . 129 

105. Looking west to the first Rock Cutting near Great Bend. 13!) 

106. Distant View of the Rock Cutting near Great Bend 130 

107. Great Rock Cutting near Great Bend 130 

108. On the Susquehanna, looking toward Great Bend 131 

109. Station at Great Bend, looking west 131 



Vlll LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 

No. Page 

110. Village of fireat Bend, from the Station, looking south. . . 132 

111. Station at Binghamton, from the cast 135 

112. Binghamton, from the Bridge 136 

113. Bridges on the Chenango and Susquehanna, looking north 137' 

114. From the Bridge over the Chenango, looking north 139 

115. Union, from the Station 142 

116. View looking toward Union, from the west 143 

1 17. Bridge over the Susquehanna near Campville, looking north 144 

118. Station at Campville 145 

119. Owego, from the Road 145 

120. Station at Owego, looking west 146 

121 . Owego, from the Station, looking south 146 

122. Smithhorough, looking west 148 

123. Cut near Barton 149 

121. Barton, from the old road 149 

L25. Straight Section hctwecn Barton and "Waverlcy, looking 

northwest 149 

126. Vv'averlcy 150 

127. Station at Vv'avcrley, looking west 150 

128. Station at Waverley, Spanish Hill 151 

129. On the Chemung 153 

130. On the Chemung 153 

131. Gravel Cut near "Wellsburg, looking east 154 

132. Rocky Cut near Wellsburg 154 

133. Station at Elmira 155 

131. Elmira, from the west 157 

135. Corning, from the opposite side of the Chemung 163 

130. Painted Post, from the cast 164 



ILLUSTRATED GUIDE-BOOK 



NEW YORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 



It can not be doubted that the Erie Rail-road is one of 
the grandest achievements of modern intellect. More may 
be said. It is one of the greatest works the world has ever 
known. We are accustomed to look with solemn awe on 
the pyramids of Egypt, and to wonder what Herculean pow- 
er reared their colossal forms ; we regard with astonishment 
the ancient aqueducts, whose ruins attest their magnificence, 
and all ages since they were built have been accustomed to 
admire the Roman military and other roads, and do homage 
to the genius and daring of their designers and constructors. 

But should a new nation or a new race two thousand 
years hence find in the solitude where now the Starrucca 
flows to the Suscpiehanna the remains of the viaduct of 
the Erie Road, or stumble suddenly on the evidence that 
the Cascade ravine had been spanned by a bridge and iron 
rail, or trace through mountain fastnesses, across deep valleys 
and strong rivers, for five hundred miles, the track of this 
splendid road of the men of the nineteenth century, doubt- 
less that new race or nation would do more homage to our 
memory than we have done to that of any former period in 
the history of our world. 

A 2 



1U UUIDK-JiOOK OF THE 

We live in an age of wonderful works of man, and are 
therefore apt to disregard the evidence of his immense pow- 
er which every day furnishes us. The pyramids are me- 
morials of a tremendous exertion of force ; hut the simplest 
discoveries of science explain the methods used to build them. 
Patience and a lever would move Mount Washington ; hut 
the man of the nineteenth century would not pause to move 
it out of his way, but would penetrate and pierce through it. 

The Erie Road is the greatest achievement of this age of 
rail-roads. No one who has not gone over it frequently can 
fully appreciate the truth of this remark. No one who did 
not know the route before it was projected can have any idea 
of it. It passes through sections of country that it would 
have been and was thought insanity to talk of building a 
rail-road through. It crosses mountains deemed impassa- 
ble ; it goes over valleys which timid men said it would 
cost billions to fill in ; it leaps ravines where bold engineers 
paused, shook their heads, and turned back. It reaches from 
the Hudson to the great Lakes, now by the side of the lordly 
Delaware, now by the placid Susquehanna, now by the yel- 
low Chemung, and now by the swift Alleghany. The tour- 
ist never wearies of looking at the splendor of the scenery 
around him until he finds himself on the shore of Lake Erie, 
looking at its green waves, and a glance at his map leaves 
him astounded at the distance he has achieved over such a 
country. 

It is to introduce this route, whether to the tourist or the 
quiet reader at home, that this work is designed. 

In connection with the internal improvement system 
of New York, many curious facts may be found by look- 
ing into the Statute-book of the Colony of New York — 
instructive as to the beginning of the great rail-road and 
canal system which is now nearly completed, and, from 
the various connections between the port of New York 
and the Lakes, ultimately to be extended to the Pacific 
Ocean. In the time of Queen Anne, the Assembly of the 



NEW YORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 1 1 

Colony of New York appropriated the sum of £500 to 
John Smith and some other persons for the purpose of 
constructing a public road leading from New York to the 
West, and the appropriation was coupled with the condi- 
tions that within two years from the time of the passage 
of the act the beneficiaries should have constructed the 
road, wide enough for two carriages to pass, from " Nyack 
on the Hudson River to Sterling Iron- works," a distance 
of twenty or thirty miles ; and that they should cut away 
the limbs of trees over the track, so as to allow the car- 
riages to pass. That was the beginning of the internal im- 
provement system of the State of New York, which, after 
the lapse of more than one hundred and twenty years, has 
proceeded no further than to open a canal and two rail-roads, 
one of which is completed, and the other nearly so, from the 
city of New York to Lake Erie. 

The Legislature of New York, at their session of 1825 
(the Erie Canal having been opened in 1824), directed a 
survey of a " State Road," to be constructed at the public 
expense, through the southern tier of counties, from the 
Hudson River to Lake Erie. The unfavorable profile ex- 
hibited in the survey, the discordant views and interests, 
resulted in the abandonment of the project. The subject 
did not, however, cease to occupy the attention of many, 
and the manifest and growing benefits of the canal did but 
increase the conviction in the southern tier of counties of the 
importance and necessity to them of an equivalent thorough- 
fare. 

At length "The New York and Erie Rail-road Com- 
pany" was incorporated by the Legislature, on the 24th 
of April, 1832, with power to construct a rail-road from 
the city of New York, or some point near, to Lake Erie, 
to transport persons and property thereon, and to regulate 
their own charges for transportation. Since that period, 
every succeeding year has added to the force of all the 
considerations in favor of such a thoroughfare ; the popu- 



12 GUIDE-BOOK OF THE 

lation, trade, and wealth of this city, and of this and the 
Western States, and the intercourse between New York 
and the region of the Lakes, have been vastly augment- 
ed ; and the necessity of greater facilities for constant and 
rapid communication throughout the whole year have be- 
come more and more evident, especially since the means of 
such communication have been in progress on several more 
southerly routes, between the waters of the Atlantic and the 
Ohio River. 

No survey of the route had been made prior to the act 
of incorporation ; but in the summer of 1832, a reconnais- 
sance was conducted, under the authority of the govern- 
ment of the United States, by Col. De Witt Clinton, Jr., 
which resulted in presenting strong inducements for obtain- 
ing a more complete and accurate instrumental survey of the 
whole line. 

In 1833, $1,000,000 was subscribed to the capital stock, 
and the company organized in August for active operations, 
by the election of directors and officers. In 1834, an ap- 
propriation for the survey of the route was made by the 
Legislature, to be conducted under the authority of the 
state government, and Governor Marcy appointed Benjamin 
Wright, Esq., to conduct the survey. During the year, a 
survey was made of the whole line, 483 miles in length, and 
complete maps and profiles, with the report and estimates 
of Judge Wright, were deposited in the office of the Secre- 
tary of State. 

At the time this report was made, much was said in 
the Legislature and in the public prints to discourage the 
undertaking "as chimerical, impracticable, and useless." 
The road, it was declared, could never be made, and, if 
made, would never be used. The southern counties were 
asserted to be mountainous, sterile, and worthless, affording 
no products requiring a road to market, or if they did, that 
they ought to resort to the Valley of the Mohawk as their 
natural outlet ! 



NEW YORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 13 

The favorable results of the state survey dispelled all 
reasonable doubts of the feasibility of the improvement, 
and measures were taken preparatory to further and more 
active operations. An additional amount was subscribed 
to the capital stock, amounting, with the previous sub- 
scription, to $2,362,100. The entire route was resur- 
veyed in 1836, and a part of the road located and com- 
menced. 

But the commercial revulsion and universal derangement 
of the currency of the country about the close of 1836 oc- 
casioned a suspension of the work until 1838, when the 
Legislature modified the law of 1836, granting to the com- 
pany, in aid of its construction, a loan of the credit of the 
state for $3,000,000. At the session of the Legislature in 

1840, the Loan Bill was further amended, and this, together 
with the collections on the stock subscriptions, enabled the 
company to locate and vigorously prosecute the work on a 
distance of 300 miles of the road. 

The first portion, a section of 46 miles, from Piermont 
to Goshen, was put in operation on the 23d of September, 

1841. In 1842, under its complicated embarrassments, 
arising from the nature and amount of its indebtedness, 
the affairs of the company were placed in the hands of 
assignees. After encountering many obstacles and em- 
barrassments attending and following the suspension of 
the work, and after various efforts to obtain the means 
necessary to extricate the company from its difficulties, 
and to a resumption of the work, the law was passed by 
the Legislature, 14th of May, 1845, relating to the con- 
struction of the road, the release of the state claim, sub- 
scriptions to the stock, &c. The Board of Directors, in 
no little anxiety about the result, entered upon the 
discharge of their responsible duties of resuscitating a work 
which is destined to add permanent wealth and prosperity 
to the city and state, and presented a plan to the public 
which placed the work in a position to be successfully 



II G\ IDE-BOOK OF THE 

prosecuted to completion. The appeal was responded to by 
the merchants and business men of New York, and the sub- 
scription of $3,000,000 to the capital stock was speedily 
fdled up. Successive portions of the road were put in opera- 
tion from time to time, until, in the spring of 1851 (May 
1 J), amid the firing of cannon, that reverberated through all 
the southern tier of counties, and the shouts of hundreds dt 
thousands of the inhabitants, who lined the road at all the 
stations from Rockland to Chautauque, two trains of cars 
conveyed the President of the United States, the immortal 
Webster, and a large and noble company of the most dis- 
tinguished citizens of America as guests of the gratified and 
justly-proud directors of the road, from the Hudson to Lake 
Erie. 

The writer of this well remembers the strange scene pre- 
sented along 1 he line of the road on that memorable evening of 
the 27th of Deccinher, l> l^, when was celebrated the opening 
as far as Binghamton. To him the country had long been 
familiar as hunting-ground, and it was a sort of sacrilege 
in his view to build a rail-road through the haunts of the 
deer. Old hunters that he had known in the forest solitudes 
stood at Deposit, in the snow-storm, lit up by the tar-barrels, 
Leaning on their rifles, and watching with curious eyes the 
apparition of the iron steed and his splendid train. Troops 
of girls entered at one end, and walked through the whole 
row of cars, gazing with astonishment at the velvet seat 
and the cloaked citizens, who were no less astonished at the 
bright eyes and rosy cheeks that Delaware county could turn 
out in a winter storm to welcome strangers. It was a new 
era in the history of the southern part of the State, and men 
said it was folly to build an iron road through Sullivan, Del- 
aware, and Broome counties. 

But time has shown that it was no false calculation that 
promised a splendid result to the enterprise. Step by step, 
mile by mile, over mountains, across valleys on airy viaducts, 
from the river to the great lakes, the work was at lenirlh 



NEW YORK AND EUIE RAIL-ROAD. 15 

■accomplished, and immediately, as it a magic wand had 
touched the great West, roads connecting with it sprang into 
existence, leading to every state in the Union north of the 
Ohio and Missouri, and the wealth of the great northwest 
was poured into the lap of New York. 

St. Louis formerly bought goods at New Orleans. Now 
it comes to us. Illinois bought at St. Louis. Now it pur- 
chases on the Atlantic coast. Ohio went bodily to Cincin- 
nati for its supplies. Cincinnati itself now seeks them in 
the metropolis of the Empire State. 

All honor, therefore, to the men who projected and the 
men who built the Erie Rail-road. 

The general features of the route can not be summed up 
in one paragraph. There is no variety of scenery, grand or 
calm, magnificent or placidly beautiful, that is not presented 
at one or another point on the road. Leaving the Hudson 
at Jersey City or at Picrmont, it passes across Rockland and 
Orange counties to the Delaware River, which it strikes at 
Delaware Station. The boldest scenery on the road is in 
the next ninety miles, in which the road follows the winding 
bank of this river. It then crosses the summit to the Sus- 
quehanna, and continues through the southern tier of coun- 
ties to Lake Eric. 

The length of the road, as now run from Jersey City, is 
459j miles. As may well be imagined, it requires an army 
of men to take care of its numerous affairs and do the labor 
on the line. Some idea of the magnitude of its affairs may 
be gathered from the following facts, which refer to the state 
of the road in the year ending September 30, 185-4 : 

Number of engines 183 

Number of cars 2,935 

Miles run by engines 2,963,484 

Average miles run by each engine 16,194 

Average miles run each day 8,119 

Tons of freight carried in cars, 743,250, or an amount equal 

to 130,808,034 tons carried one mile. 



1G GUIBE-BOOK OF THE 

Number of passengers carried, 1,125,123, or equal to 

99,663,709 passengers carried one mile. 

Length of road : Main line 445 miles. 

Newburgh Branch 19 " 

Double track 262 " 

Total miles of Rail-road 726 " 

of road and equipment, s;33,439,43l 40, or about 

s 16,000 per mile of road laid. 

Earnings for year 1854 $5,359,958 68 

Expenses " " 2,712,615 57 

or 51.16 per cent, of the earnings. 

.Number of employes about 4000 

at Susquehanna shop 203 

" " ; ' Piermont " 230 

" Dunkirk " 115 

car-repairers 131 

Total number of employes repairing engines and cars 682 

The road is laid with the wide gauge, that is to say, the 
rails are six feet apart, thus affording broad cars, which are 
more airy and pleasant, the seals for two persons being am- 
ply wide enough for three. 

There is a feature connected with this road which we be- 
lieve no other road in the Union possesses, and which facili- 
tates all its operations, enables the superintendents to preserve 
the regularity of their trains, and insures the passenger, to a 
great extent, against the danger of collision with other trains 
in motion on the road. This is the company's telegraph 
line, which runs by the side of the road, and has its opera- 
tor in every station-house. By this means a perfect record 
is kept of the time and place of every tram on the whole 460 
miles of road, and every station has a book in which this is 
written as fast as received, so that no error can occur. The 
vast benefits resulting from this arrangement can hardly be 
appreciated by one who has not seen them and experienced 
them. An instance of its use in small matters may be given. 

Not long since, the writer was going west in an express 



NEW YORK A11D ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 1 7 

train, and had just left Susquehanna, when the conductor 

came up to him and asked him if he knew a Mrs. who 

was on the train. " That is my name," said a lady who 
sat immediately in front of us. "Ah, madam, I am happy 
to find you," said the conductor ; " Mr. Smith, the gentle- 
man in whose charge you are traveling, was left by the train 
at Deposit, and I have received a dispatch from him, asking 
me to see that you are properly cared for at Owego, where 
he will overtake you in the next train." The lady had not 
yet missed her protector, and was relieved of any anxiety by 
his dispatch. The company's rules forbid the use of this 
telegraph for any purpose but rail-road business, except in 
cases of sickness or death. By this means its use is secured 
for the safety and perfect management of the road. On ar- 
riving at a station where he is to take the train, the traveler- 
will learn immediately, on inquiry, whether the train is on 
time, or if not, how much out of time it is, and the exact 
moment at which it will arrive. 

Having thus given the reader a general idea of the road 
he is about to traverse, we will proceed to the company's pier 
at the foot of Duane Street in New York. It is impossible 
to reach the boat without pausing to wonder at the masses 
of freight lying in the immense building which covers this 
pier, and the variety, which shows the immense tract of 
country that the Erie Road commands. Here are merchan- 
dise, dry goods, and groceries marked for St. Louis, Cincin- 
nati, St. Paul, Lake Superior, Milwaukie, and Fond du Lac, 
besides a thousand nearer places. Here are butter, cheese, 
venison, grain, leather, stock, and produce of every kind, and 
at the up town piers are cattle, sheep, hogs, and other ani- 
mals, while the lumber has been scattered over the city to a 
hundred convenient points. 

The milk-cans will attract the most attention, for one large 
item of the business of the eastern section is the bringing of 
milk to the city, and a special train is run for this purpose 
every night. 



18 (;VH)ii-BOOK OF THE 

Beibre taking the cars, it may be well to oiler some sug- 
gestions to the traveler for pleasure, which will enable him 
to divide his time to most advantage, and see the most of the 
beauties of the route he is about to traverse. 

We would suggest, therefore, that he make his first day's 
journey extend as far as Port Jervis, and, after resting in the 
Valley of the Neversink, go the next day to Susquehanna, 
drive down to Lanesborough, and pass a night at a quiet, little 
inn, and devote the forenoon to the examination of the via- 
duct over the Starrucca Valley and the Cascade Bridge. 
Having done this, he will be prepared to take an afternoon 
train, on his third day, from Susquehanna to Binghamton, 
Owego, or Elmira, where he will pass the night. The next 
day he should go on as far as Hornellsville, and take the Buf- 
falo Road to Portage. At this place he will have calculated 
on staying a day, and will probably be tempted, by the gran- 
deur of the scenery, to remain nearer to a week. He should 
then return to Hornellsville and ride over the road to Dunkirk. 
The question is frequently asked, which side of the car is 
preferable to sit on. It is impossible to select one as prefer- 
able to the other for the entire route, though one side is often 
shut in for many miles by the side of a mountain, while from 
the other the view is grand. 

From New York to Middletown there is no choice what- 
ever. From Middletown to the bridge beyond Mast Hope, 
where the road returns from Pennsylvania into New York 
across the Delaware, the right-hand side presents one con- 
tinuous scene of changeable beauty, grandeur, and magnifi- 
cence, while from the left is visible almost nothing. From 
this bridge to Deposit the left-hand side is again to be chosen, 
as the right is shut in by the mountain side all the way. 
From Deposit to Susquehanna the right-hand side is to be 
selected for the splendid burst of beauty after crossing the 
Cascade Bridge, of which we shall speak in its place. 

There are a few points on the road where we desire before- 
hand to direct the traveler to be "looking out. 1 ' or he will 



NEW YORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 19 

miss instantaneous views that are worth a journey to catch 
a glimpse of. The first of these is on the right hand, after 
passing Otisville. The second is on the left, as we go off from 
the Delaware Bridge west of Port Jervis, or Delaware Sta- 
tion, where the view down the river at the end of the bridge 
is lost almost instantly, but may be seen less distinctly a few 
moments later, as the road turns, by looking back on the 
right. Again at Shohola on the left, and then on the right 
at Lacka waxen, to see the canal crossing the aqueduct, as 
the cars pass immediately abreast of it. 

On the approach to the Cascade Bridge, west of Deposit, the 
scene-seeker must be ready to look down into the ravine on 
either side as he crosses it, and he may catch a view of the 
cascade through the trees on the left, and then, a few mo- 
ments later, on the right he will have the splendid view up 
the Valley of the Susquehanna. 

With these remarks, we are prepared to accompany the 
traveler on the route. 

When the road was built, it was designed to run from Pier- 
rnont, on the Hudson ; but the necessity of coming to New 
York being more and more manifest, an arrangement was 
made with three rail-road companies, the Union, the Ram- 
apo and Paterson, and the Paterson and Jersey City, by 
which passengers were conveyed to and from New York and 
Su fern's Station, on the Erie Road, over those roads, by way 
of Jersey City. Subsequently this arrangement was made 
more perfect, and by a contract made in 1852 between those 
companies and the Erie Rail-road Company, those roads were 
relaid with the six-foot track, and now the cars of the Erie 
Road run to and from Jersey City, the Piermont extension 
from Suffern's being used solely for freight and local travel. 

Passengers, therefore, take the ferry-boat at the company's 
wharf at Duane Street in New York, where their baggage 
is received and checked. In the station-house at Jersey City 
they find the wide cars of the broad gauge, and immediately 
leave the Hudson. 



GUIDE-BOOK OF THE 

For two miles the track is identical with the New Jersey 
Rail-road and Transportation Company's track, through the 
deep rock cut of Bergen Hill. The six-foot gauge is arranged 
by the laying of an extra rail. This road is the great tunnel 
of travel into New York city and state, and that over which 
every one goes who travels from any part of New York or New 
England to Philadelphia, Washington, or the South. There 
is no rail-road in the United Slates over which there is an 
amount of travel equal to that which passes through Bergen 
Hill, on what is commonly called the Philadelphia Road. 

Leaving the deep cut, we see before us the Hackensack 
River, and here leave the Philadelphia Road to the left, 
which crosses the river on the bridge, now visible, and pro- 
ceeds to Newark, the spires and buildings of which may be 
seen plainly, at six miles' distance, across the Jersey Flats. 

We cross the Hackensack River by a piled bridge, 6^ miles 
from Jersey City, and three miles farther on pass the little 
station at Boilixc; Spring, so called from a fine spring of 
water near the side of the road. 

We here leave the Flats of New Jersey and enter a farm- 
ing country, possessing much natural beauty. Three miles 
farther on the road crosses the Passaic River at the pleasant 
little village of 

Aquackanonk. This is 12 miles from New York, and is 
a fine specimen of a New Jersey village. Four miles and a 
half bring us to 

Paterson, one of the finest cities in New Jersey. The 
road passes through the eastern part of the town, and gives 
the traveler but a poor idea of the place, except from the view 
which he has of the elegant grounds of Roswell Colt, Esq., 
on the left of the train as it approaches the station. This is 
a manufacturing town, and has a population of over 2000. 
There are extensive locomotive manufactories here, where 
have been built many of the finest engines on the principal 
roads in the country. The Falls of the Passaic River in 
former years were the chief attraction of Paterson, and the 



.\ T E\V FORK AND EKIE KAIL-ROAD, 21 

place where the Falls once were is still worth a visit. But 
most of the water which formerly ran over them is now 
drawn off to work the wheels of the mills, and it is only in 
a very wet season, or after a flood of rain, that there is much 
of a waterfall visible here. 

At Paterson the road passes to the track of the Paterson 
and Ramapo Road, and continues on it to the line of New 
York State, when it again changes to the Union Company's 
track. As we have before remarked, these several roads are 
all laid with the broad gauge, and there is no change of cars 
at any point on the road. 

Godwinville, . 5 J- miles from Paterson and 2 If miles 
from New York, is a small station, not demanding special 
notice. 

Hohokus, 23Jr miles from New York, is a pleasant station 
in one of the loveliest parts of New Jersey. 

Allendale, 25h miles from New York, and 

Ramsey's, 27^ miles from New York, are stations of little 
importance. The farms are rich and fine-looking until we 
approach Suffern's. 

The traveler will now observe the rapid change in the ap- 
pearance of the country. From the quiet farm-lands of New 
Jersey, he is passing into mountain defiles, which begin to 
close around him until he is in one of the most picturesque 
of mountain scenes, and, after crossing into New York State, 
he goes but half a mile on the Union Road, when he readies 
the track of the Erie Rail-road at Suffern's. 

At this point we will return to New York, and take the 
old route via Piermont, that the reader may be thoroughly 
informed of the entire eastern section of the road. 

Taking the steam-boat at the pier, we go up the Hudson 
24 miles to Piermont. In leaving this route, while the road 
has gained in the matter of time and convenience, there is a 
loss to the pleasure traveler, who can never see too often the 
Palisades and the beautiful slopes of Westchester county, 
now covered with the elegant country seats of our wealthy 



22 



GUIDE-BOOK. OF THE 



citizens. The terminal ion of the road at Piermont oilers to 
view one of the most gigantic of those great structures which 
the traveler must expect to see constantly from one to the 
other end of the route. 

The Pieu built by the company is one mile in length, 
about fifty feet wide in general, but expanding to three hun- 
dred feet at the outer extremity, including a spacious dock 
for boats. Large wooden buildings for the various purposes 
of the road are erected at the end of the pier, where the 
freight and passengers are received and discharged to and 
from the boats and cars. 

Along the surface of this vast pier are innumerable tracks 
and switches, the iron veins along which circulates inces- 
santly the life-blood of a great railway depot. The land at 
the head of the pier is all made ground on which the com- 
pany's buildings stand. 




The view of the village from the end of the pier is quite 
worth pausing to admire before taking a seat in the cars. 

At the head of the pier stands the village of Piermont, on 
the slope of the hill and at its base, around the company's 
work-shops and engine-houses. The company has built the 
most of its own cars and many of its own engines. Every 
thing here presents a busy appearance, marked, at the same 



NEW YORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 2o 

time, with the order and regularity that characterizes all 
the departments of labor under the supervision of this great 
company. 




A certain amount of disappointment was of course feit by 
the inhabitants and landowners at and near Piermont when 
the Erie Rail-road Company yielded to the manifest neces- 
sity of terminating their line in fact, if not in name, at the 
city of New York ; and very great opposition to this course 
was made by Rockland county, aided by not a little log- 
rolling: in the Legislature of the state. But in this, as in all 
similar cases, the demand of the great public was a power so 
strong as to put down effectually all outcries of petty interest. 
The company made their New Jersey arrangements, and 
continued to run their freight trains to Piermont, while they 
carried passengers to Jersey City. A local passenger train 
runs daily in connection with the steam-boat. 

They did not remove their work-shops from Piermont, and 
it is not probable that they ever will. 

In these work-shops they employ two hundred and thirty 
men at car building, engine building, repairing, &c, &c, 
and this is still one of the busiest spots on the road. 

The embankment on which the station-house stands di- 
vides the village into two parts. That to the north of us is 
the main business street facing the work-shops, and show- 
ing along its enthe length neat stores, dwellings, a church, 



: 1 GUIDE-BOOK OF THE 

and a large hotel, that gives it an air of dignity and im- 
portance. Above rise the steep mountains, up which, as 
we have said, are scattered beautiful cottages, with now 
and then an elegant mansion among trees. Many of 
these up-toivn dwellings are occupied during summer by 
city folks, that find Piermont a pleasant and convenient 
resort. South of the station, the village is built along the 
Sparkill, a small creek issuing from the valley we are soon 
to enter. The dwellings further up the stream are very 
neat and tasty, having small gardens around them. Be- 
yond these, scattered over the yellow, marshy " flats," are 
numerous Irish shanties, the fast-disappearing types of 
what Piermont altogether was a few years ago, when it 
figured in the Gazetteer as a" fishing village, with con- 
siderable trade, supporting three sloops!" Tappan Slote 
was then its title — slote being, we believe, the Dutch for 
ditch, and applied to the pretty stream now called the 
Sparkill. Indeed, such squalid hovels, only two years 
since, offended the eye in the midst of the new and fash- 
ionable part of the village. Now look at the wonderful 
change wrought in this " fishing village" by the beneficent 
power of steam ! The "nets" of its former "traders" are 
now represented by the mazy net-ivork of iron tracks upon 
that pier, and for the "three sloops" are substituted as 
many steam-boat's, to say nothing of the land-stea.mexs 
running up and down that long track, like jockies trying 
their steeds on a training-course. The population is esti- 
mated at over one thousand. The visitor will find it well 
worth his while to ascend the heights above the village, 
and enjoy the prospects they afford. The most striking of 
these is the map-like view of the station and pier, which 
last looks as though it ran half way across the river. Op- 
posite is Mr. Paulding's residence at Tarrytown, and Wash- 
ington Irving's country seat. The broad, placid sheet of 
the Hudson contrasts singularly with the noisy hive and 
artificial lines of the station, while on the right, just be- 



NEW YORK AND ERIE RALL-ROAD. 



20 




neath us, winds the sinuous Sparkill among its grassy 
meadows. But listen how the "Knickerbocker''' thus fe- 
licitously hits off the sights and sounds of Piermont, after 
describing the bright shores opposite : " Hark ! the shriek 
of the steam- whistle and its white breath brings us to the 
foreground, and we look down upon long, snaky trains of 
freight-cars, gliding amid a labyrinth of iron tracks, and 
preceded by a puffing locomotive, that often requires the 
application of "a switch" to keep it in the proper track ; 
upon groups and clusters of brick structures (some of them 
in the pointed Ionic style of architecture) ; upon half a 
mile of new cars and an acre of car-wheels ; upon the 
smoke of Stygian forges, whence comes up also "the clink 
of hammers closing rivets up," the slow, grinding noise of 
iron planes driven by steam-engines ; and upon ditchers 
"laying pipe" with as little regard for the consecmences 
of his labor as any politician that ever performed the same 
labor before them !" 

2 






GUIDE-BOOK OF THE 



Northward we have a superb view of the Nyack hills, 
and the fine curve of the river between them and Pier- 




111011L, making it much resemble the Bay of Naples. The 
view, also, looking westward, embraces a vast landscape, 
through which our road passes, and on its furthermost 
verge we may see the Ramapo Gap, a very remarka- 
ble notch in the mountains of that valley, 17 miles dis- 
tant. 

The country around Piermont is full of historical inter 
est associated with the Revolution. Directly opposite, ana 
near Tarry town, is the spot where Major Andre was ar- 
rested by the three militia-men ;. and at Tappan, a village 
three miles south of Piermont, was the scene of his exe- 
cution. His grave is still pointed out, but in 1831 the 
body was taken to England, and deposited in Westmin- 
ster Abbey. In a work descriptive of this state, pub- 
lished by the NeAv York Historical Society in 1841, there 



NEW YORK AAD ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 



27 



is a very interesting account of the exhumation, and also 
of Andre's execution, as described by an eye-witness. 

Our road leaves Piermont by a southwesterly curve 
round some heavy rock-cutting, and then turning west- 
ward, we ascend the valley of the Sparkill by a grade of 
sixty feet to the mile. This grade is necessary to attain 
the country beyond, and extends, with occasional levels 
and descents, twelve and a half miles, to Monsey. As 
we enter the valley near Piermont, we have a beautiful 
view of the Sparkill and the neat cottages lining its banks, 
each with its little garden, that speaks so well the happy 
condition of its occupant. These are the snug abodes of 
the artisans in the work-shops, and it is gratifying to think 
those sons of Vulcan have such pleasant retreats from the 
smoke, noise, and labor of the day. Very soon, however, 
this fair part of the valley, with the broad Hudson and 
the noisy village, are lost to sight, and we emerge upon 
an open country of poor soil, but abounding in orchards. 
A double track is laid upon this portion of the road, ex- 
tending from Piermont to Clarkstown. 

Blauveltsville (from pier four and a half miles) is the 
first stopping - place 
on our way "West. 
The track is here 
crossed by a substan- 
tial wooden bridge, 
and on the humble 
platform of the sta- 
tion you see the first 
pile of the "noble 
army" of milk-cans 
drawn up in impos- 
ing array on all the stations before us for sixty miles — a 
section of the road happily termed the " Milky "Way." 
Though Rockland county furnishes but little of this great 
staple compared with that supplied by her neighbor Or- 




28 



GUIDE-BOOK OF THE 



ange, yet she almost exclusively contributes another lux- 
ury, which, when combined with the lacteal product, 
forms a compound of the most delicious associations. Her 
strawberries are famous for their abundance and fine fla- 
vor. According to a statement of the superintendent of 
the road last year, a single train took down to New York 
in one day 80,000 baskets of strawberries and 28,000 
quarts of milk. It is estimated that the people of this 
county receive during the season $3000 per diem for that 
delicious fruit alone. Well does the region deserve the 
straicberry-leaf in its coronet. 

At Blauveltsville the road passes through a deep cut 
of clay, and a mile or two further passes over a long em- 
bankment, the view from which shows the height we have 
attained above the river. The country here is very open, 
and, looking to the southeast, we can see the bold head- 
lands of the Palisades stretching away as far as Hoboken. 
Clarkstown (from pier nine miles) is the second sta- 
tion, and is nine miles from Pierrnont. It is a lonesome- 
looking spot, though plea- 
sant. A platform and a 
brick grocery, the proprie- 
tor of which is also post- 
master, constitutes all to be 
seen at this stopping-place. 
This region was originally 
settled by Dutch Hugue- 
nots. The country in this 
vicinity is very uninterest- 
ing and uncultivated, and 
its dull aspect will make 
you look with the more in- 
terest upon that little brown 
stone Gothic cottage on the 
right of the road, a mile and a half beyond Clarkstown. 
This architectural gem is of two stories, of elaborate de- 




NEW VORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 29 

sign and finish, and embowered in trees of various kinds. 
It was built by Mr. Thorn, the celebrated Scottish self- 
taught mason-sculptor of "Tarn O'Shanter and Souter 
Johnnie," who resided here for some months. A life- 
size statue of Washington, cut by him out of a single block 




t*» 



of stone, stands in the garden, facing the gate. Though 
we think Mr. Thorn's genius lay more in imbodying the 
-humorous heroes of Burns, yet this Washington has much 
nobility of form and feature. It has recently been made 
famous by a decision of the Court of Appeals declaiing it a 
fixture and part of the real estate. 

Of the next two stopping-places, 

Spring Valley, eleven and a half miles from Piermont, 
and 

Monsey, thirteen miles, nothing more may be said than 
that they are a pair of uninteresting settlements growing 
up round the stations, placed in a dull-looking country 
At Monsey we reach the summit of the heavy grade of 
sixty feet, that has lifted us from the edge of the Hudson, 
and enter a descending one of a like description, that ex- 
tends five and a half miles beyond. Unless the traveler 
prefers watching the agility of the hands at the wood-pile 



30 



GUIDK-BOOK OF THE 



or water-tank, studying the faces of the natives alongside 
of the milk-cans always drawn up on the platform, he 
had better take a nap while passing this region. He must 
be wide awake, however, after passing Monsey, for there 
looms directly across our path a dark curtain of mountains, 
rising higher and higher as we approach. The long line 
of its ridge is soon broken into what is called the Ramapo 
Cap (the same as seen from the heights above Piermont' 1 
and here, in its very jaws, we reach the poinl ;il winch we 
before arrived by the route from Jersey City. 



:!■•<; 




Sufffrx's (from New York 32 miles, from the pier 18 
miles, from Duukiik 4 27.V miles) is placed at the entrance 
of the mountain pass, and has an imposing setting. When 
the trains transferred their passengers here, it was a more 
important station than now. The Union Rail-road, which 
is one of the three rail-roads over which the passengers who 
took the cars at Jersey City have come to this station, is but 
a short piece of road, having no special point to mark its 
southern terminus. It extends from Sufiern's to the state 
line of New Jersey, a distance of only half a mile, and was 
constructed for the purpose of connecting the Erie Road with 
the Paterson and Ramapo Road, which ends at the state line 
where this begins. 

The station at Sufiern's is a1 the foot of a splendid hill, 



NilJW TCHtH a \|. ERIE I.' in ROAD 






which will attract the eye of the lover of the picturesque, and 
here commences the grand scenery of the road. 

At Suii'ern's we rind ourselves entering a region inter- 
esting from its romantic scenery, its abundant iron ore, 
its factories and mills, and its Revolutionary history. 
The Ramapo Valley was the only route between New 
York and the western counties during the Revolution. 
Many of Washington's letters were dated here while en- 
camped in 1780 ; and this "2iass" came near being the 
scene of a great struggle during that eventful period. 
Washington, expecting the advance of the British troops 
from New York and New Jersey against the American 
forces in the Highlands, took up a position with his army 
a mile and a half beyond Suftern's, and where the "pass" 
was not more than a quarter of a mile wide. A more 
formidable position could not have been selected ; but the 
enemy did not test its impregnability. To the right of 




the rail-road, and very near it, the marks of the old in- 
trenchments are still visible in the fosse and ridge extend- 
ing to the mountain to the north, and the traces of the 
camp-fires of our French allies are perceptible in the 
woods of the opposite flank. Half a mile eastward of 



L, I n>fc.-i:<» 'K OF THE 



Sufiem's, and to the north of the road, from which it is 
concealed. 'i eld lavm-house — the head-quarters 




of Washington when here with his army. Though the^e 
" head-quarters" are indeed legion in some portions of the 
country, we regard the sneer and incredulity visited upon 
their claims to such an honor as highly unreasonable. 
Considering the length of the Revolutionary struggle, and 
the ever-shifting position of our forces, it is not strange 
that many a farm-house should thus be consecrated for all 
time by the presence of the commander-in-chief. The 
"quarters" near Sufiem's can not justly be deemed apoc- 
ryphal, for, being so near the intrenched army, and being 
a house of (for that era) stately accommodations, the cir- 
cumstantial evidence of its having been his head-quarters 
is irresistible. The house is in good preservation, and 
occupied by a Mr. Carpenter, who hospitably entertained 
the writer of this in an apartment where the father of his 
country may have planned those campaigns that subse- 
quently achieved our independence. This interesting relic 
belongs to Major Suflern, one of the chief land-holders of 
this region, and from whom the station derives its name. 
From Sufiem's we ascend another light grade, extending 
nine miles. Beyond the old intrenchments, the rail-road 



NEW YORK AND ERtE RAIL-ROAD. 



33 



crosses the Raviapo, a small stream that, having led a 
wild but very useful life as a mill-brook in the mountains, 
flows toward us placidly through a meadowy vale on our 
right. From the high embankment here there is a noble 
view of the mountain that forms the right shoulder of the 
Ramapo Gap, called the Torn, which word is here said 
to be the Dutch for steeple. But as you, my considerate 
tourist, will doubtleso linger in this region, you can see 
this noble peak to better advantage from the small bridge 
over the Ramapo, a few yards north of the one we have 
crossed, and where we took the accompanying sketch. 




the scene there is just such a one as Durand would like 
to paint — so perfect in its composition — a happy mixture 
of the gentle and the wild, the sublime and the beautiful. 
Standing there under that vine-hung sycamore, you see 
the Ramapo coming toward you through a sea of level 
meadow. On the right a group of beeches overshades its 



34 



GUIDE-BOOK OF THE 



stream, in. which cattle stand knee-deep and drowsy. On 
the left rises a knoll, capped by a neat cottage covered 
with vine, while immediately opposite and in the center 
" swells from the vale" — and I have no doubt " midway 
leaving" any "storm" that ever broke on his Titan breast, 
rises the rocky crest of the Torn — chief of the K-amapo 
chin ! His is no monotonous mound of verdure, but he 
bares his rocky front, and shows it seamed and riven in 
successive layers, that stand out boldly in the light, and 
throw deep, mysterious shadows over his broad bosom. 
From the "steepled" peak of the Torn, a very extensive 
view, embracing even the harbor of New York, may be 
had for the climbing, and it is said that Washington often 
ascended there to watch the movements of the British 
fleet. On one of these excursions, we are also told, he 
lost his watch on the summit, and the legend has it that 
it is still going there on tick ! 

Following up this romantic valley, we again join the 
Ramapo in its narrowest gorge, where its useful waters 



■ 




long since established the Ramapo Iron -works (from 
New York 34 miles, from Dunkirk 426 miles). This sta- 



NEW YORK AND EKIli RAJl.-K.OAD. o-'\ 

tion, 19 miles from Piermont, is one of the most interest- 
ing on the road, from the picturesqueness of the scenery 
and the extent of the once thriving works, visible from the 
cars. The mountains here rise precipitously, leaving but 
a narrow strip of soil on one side of the river, that, dammed 
beyond all chance of escape, spreads out into quite a lake, 
affording a great water-power. These works, for rolling 
and splitting iron, and for manufacturing cut nails, were 
established in 1824 by a company, at the head of which 
was the venerable Judge Pierson, the proprietor of this 
territory, who has resided here since early manhood. By 
the enterprise of this gentleman, the valuable iron ore so 
abundant in the neighborhood was made available on an 
extensive scale. With plenty of iron and water power, 
the works for many years were very successful, but com- 
petition of rival establishments injured those at Ramapo, 
and now the amojant of the business done by them is com- 
paratively small. This was the first establishment in the 
county where cut nails were made. Another enterprise 
has proved more successful here. Some years since a man- 
ufactory of files was established, all the workmen and boys 
in which were brought from Sheffield, England, and so far 
it has proved very successful. A new building, on a large 
scale, has since been erected for the same manufacture. A 
large cotton-mill of brick was also established here by 
Judge Pierson. It was unsuccessful, and is now not in 
operation. It is sad to see the wreck of so many of the 
liberal enterprises of this gentleman, who commenced life 
in an humble vocation, has filled several offices of public 
trust, and now, in his old age, unfortunately, has not reaped 
the substantial rewards his exertions merited. He has, 
however, the satisfaction of seeing the success of the Erie 
Rail-road, of which, from the first, he has been the warm 
friend and advocate. Most of the dwellings of Ramapo 
stand on the stream half a mile below us, and from the 
bridge near the iron-works there is a very beautiful view 



GllDE-BOOK OF THE 




of the valley, the village locked in by noble hills, ovei al 
of which the Tom shoots up his rocky head. There is an 
endless variety of romantic scenery around Ramapo, and 
the broad expanse of the river above the dam gives a pe- 
culiar charm to the landscape, with its clear surface and 
the frequent pleasure-boats reflected in it. 

One mile beyond Ramapo the road makes a sudden bend 
to the northward, and emerges upon a wide, fertile tract, 
though still hemmed in by a picturesque range of hills, to 
get out of which a stranger would be at a loss to know 
how to run a rail-road. From the height just above this 
curve, looking north, there is a superb view of the valley, 
in the midst of which lies, two miles from Ramapo, our 
next station, 

Sloatsbukg (from New York 35 miles, from Dunkirk 
425 miles). This beautiful and thriving place presents a 
singular aspect to the traveler. From the station he sees 
two substantial cotton factories, and not a sign of a vil- 
lage or hamlet in sight, the damsels employed in them 
dwelling in the humble but neat abodes scattered along 
this " happy valley." Embowered in n< ble trees, the mills 
look as though placed in a gentleman's park, did not the 
adjacent dingy blacksmith shop show that the precincts 
were those of a regular factory. This establishment was 



NEW VORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 




erected in 1820, the brick portion in 1846, and are used 
exclusively for making cotton tivine, of which important 
article 5000 pounds are weekly sent "by rail" to New 
York. This improved twine is the invention of the prin- 
cipal proprietor of the mills and owner of the grounds on 
which they stand, Major Jacob Sloat, from whom the place 
gets its name. Major Sloat's enterprise and mechanical 
ingenuity have brought the mills to. their present flourish- 
ing condition, and his good taste has made Sloatsburg the 
fairest portion of the valley. He derives his domain from 
his grandfather, to whom it was assigned by five Indian 
chiefs in 1738, and the original deed of conveyance is truly 
a literary curiosity, for, the settler being from Holland (as, 
indeed, were all those who originally came to this valley), 
the document is drawn up in a choice lingo, compounded 
of Dutch and Indian. If the tourist stop here, and pene- 
trates beyond that factory and its grove, he will see evi- 
dences of the immense influence of one man's controlling 
taste in the well-fenced meadows, the sacred regard for 
trees that give the place its park-like beauty, and the gen- 
eral prosperous air of every dwelling around him. And 
what nobler certificate of character can there be than in 
such fair characters of neatness, order, and industry, writ- 



38 GUIDE-BOOK OF THE 

ten upon a man's estate ? To accommodate his neigh- 
bors, the major has put up a " model country store," styl- 
ish enough for a country residence, from which, however, 
is rigidly excluded all intoxicating drinks. Judge Pierson, 
of Ramapo, also excludes alcohol from his estate, and thus 
much of the order and prosperity of the valley may be at- 
tributed to the praiseworthy prudence of these gentlemen. 
Strangers wishing to linger here are surprised to find there 
are no public houses for their accommodation, which may 
be owing to the indisposition of landlords to put up such 
without the privilege of a bar-room, so ruinous to the mor- 
als of a rural population. 

At Sloatsburg the tourist can take the stage that runs 
thrice a week to Greenwood Lake, 12 miles distant — a 
beautiful sheet of water eight miles long, that lies on the 
border line between New York and Jersey. It lies ro- 
mantically among steep mountains, and is the favorite 
resort of the "knights of the rod and line." A good ho- 
tel, also, may be found there, with plenty of boats and 
" tackle " 

We have said the original settlers of this neighborhood 
were Dutch, and were generally considered opposed to all 
spirit of improvement. Until recently, little was known 
of the people beyond the limits, their anti-innovation dis- 
position keeping them ever at home. Much of this igno- 
rance of what is going on with their neighbors still exists. 
An amusing instance of it is told as occurring in an adja- 
cent community called Johnston, where, not many years 
back, the panther and other wild beasts were to be found 
Every one, on first hearing the present new style of steam 
whistle used on the Erie Rail-road, has been startled bv 
its unearthly hoarseness, as though it had a bad cold, n 
"church-yard cough," so different from its old-fashioned 
ear-piercing shrillness of pipe. Soon after the introduc- 
tion of this asthmatic stranger in the Ramapo Valley, the 
village of Johnston was "frightened from its propriety" 



NEW VTOBK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 



59 



by strange, awful sounds in the forests, occurring day and 
night. They were at once attributed to the wild animals 
holding their revels in the woods. It was believed some 
lingering specimen of the mastodon caused the row, and 
therefore, one dark night, the villagers, collecting guns, 
axes, and pitch-forks, lay in ambuscade for the monster 
at the hour he selected for his vocal exercises. At the 
usual hour the roar was heard, and so suddenly and so 
near that the party were about to hurry back to their anx- 
ious wives and mothers, when, lo ! through the gloom of 
night issued the glaring Cyclops eye of the loccaiotive, 
that treated them with another blast from his hoarse 
lungs as he rushed by them ' 

Leaving Sloatsburg, our course runs directly northward, 
and we are once more in the iron region, and pass sever- 
al works, both in active operation and in decay. One of 




these, in ruin, is the most picturesque object along the 
road, and merits particular notice. It is on the right side 
of the road (going westward), and therefore, fellow-trav- 
eler, keep a look-out, for it can be seen but for an instant. 
It is known as the old Augusta Iron-tcorks, The road 



40 GUIDE-BOOK OF THE 

makes a sudden curve near it, and there it is right before 
you, the loneliest and loveliest nook imaginable. The 
Ramapo makes two leaps from a grove of willows, over 
i'antastic ledges of gray rock rising perpendicularly on the 
right, covered with trees of every sort, and its crest brist- 
ling with hemlock. On this side of the cascade rises a 
knoll of darkest green verdure, and overshadowed with 
tall trees. A wall, mossy and crumbling, separates this 
knoll from a grassy slope that descends toward us and to 
the foot of the cascade, and on its bare greensward stands 
the crumbling gable of the mill, overrun and festooned 
with every sort of wild vine and jwasite, in the autumn 
forming a matted garland of the most brilliant hues thrown 
over the old gray, decayed wall. The interior of the ruin 
is filled with a mass of broad-leaved pumpkiu-vines, with 
their golden globes lodged among moist old mill-wheels 
and other debris, of deep rich brown earthy hues. As 
this ivied relic stands immediately in front of the cascade, 
the foam and Hash of which are seen through the arched 
gate, while the deep, cool shadows of the ravine power- 
fully relieve the gay-mantled gable, the whole picture 
strikes the eye of the visitor as a happy one, whose inter- 
est, made up of ivied ruins and fresh, romantic brook scen- 
ery, not often seen in our country, are fully equal to one 
half the vaunted "ruins" we have seen in the Old World. 
Short as the glimpse is, we at once have visions of a pic- 
nic on that shady knoll ; and while the claret cools on the 
edge of that mass of foam, we wander in fancy with fair 
damsels over that bright green turf, round the old walls 
of that ruin so richly draped and garlanded ! 

The Augusta Iron-works were very celebrated in their 
day, and are among the oldest in this region. The heavy 
chain placed across the Hudson at West Point, to check 
the advance of the British fleet, was forged here. Near 
these works the road passes through a heavy rock-cu1lii]L r , 
and crosses the Ramapo bv a substantial wooden bridge. 



NEW YORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 41 

We now leave Rockland county and enter that ol Orange, 
of which the former was once a part. It seems singular 
that the division was not made some six miles, at least, 
further north, where Nature herself seems to have placed 
a natural divorce between Vulcan and Ceres, as repre- 
sented in the forges of Rockland and smiling fields of Or- 
ange. As it is, the iron god appears still to thrust his fin- 
gers through the yellow hair of the golden goddess, as you 
will see by the blackened chimneys that mark the road for 
several miles in Orange county. After crossing the Ram- 
apo, the valley expands, though the cultivation is not such 
as makes Sloatsburg so beautiful. Indeed, in many places 
there is a primitive wildness. The eye of the observant 
traveler will not fail to see how gradually the mountains 
indicate the improvement of the soil on their side. The 
unbroken wall of rock and forest, that has followed us on 
each side from SufFem's, is becoming invaded. The plow 
has evidently made an assault upon those heights, and 
here and there, midway up, the patches of fields and an 
occasional hut show that permanent positions have been 
carried. 

Monroe Works (from New York 42 miles, from Dun- 
kirk 418 miles) is our next stopping-place. It takes its 
name from the adjacent iron- works that once flourished 




here, but are now greatly reduced in point of work, ex- 
hibiting another sample of that most desolate of all ob- 



! 2 I-B i <>i I HJ 

jects, a ruined mill ; its huge joints, sinews, and ribs, so 
evidently made for ''hard labor,'' now lying ill, or in but 
weakly condition, like a giant in consumption ! This is 
the last of Vulcan's work-shops we shall see, though there 
are many others in the neighborhood. The ore used in 
the Monroe Works is brought from mines six miles ofl', and 
is said to be the best in the country for cannon. In Lik- 
ing leave of these iron-works, we must say a word about 
the useful little stream which, for near a century, has fed 
them with its tide. The word Ramapo is Indian, and is 
said to mean the "river of round ponds," thus describ- 
ing the peculiarity of its origin from the numerous ponds 
among the hill-tops already spoken of. Ramapo, thus 
made up of the surplus waters of these singular mountain 
basins, runs through the valley, and, after being "broken 
on the wheel" by the numerous mills along its banks, 
closes its well-spent life in the bosom of the Passaic, in 
Jersey. 

A spacious hotel, which is located near Monroe 
Works station, affords good accommodations to those wish- 
ing to spend the summer in that quiet region, and to those 
sturdy pedestrians who care not to tramp eight or nine 
miles to Suffern's, and thus examine the interesting val- 
ley we are now leaving. 

A few miles beyond Monroe Works, the very crest of the 
hill-sides are carried by the plow, and the shaven ridge is 
marked with fences and dotted with trees, converting the 
heights into the character of Orange county summits. We 
are now fairly in sight of the " land flowing with milk and 
butter," and the receding hills seem to bow their heads, 
and sink lovingly in the embrace of the wide fields and 
pastures stretching flatly before us. Now and then, how- 
ever, the mountains close up near us, as is the case on 
approaching the next station, called 

Turner's (from New York 47 miles, from Dunkirk 413 
miles). This is the most important station on the road 




\i:W TORK AND ERIE B V1L-ROAD. 43 

thus far, showing some- 
tiling more than a plat- 
form for idlers and milk- 
kettles. Large freight- 
houses, and the numer- 
ous farm-wagons stand- 
ing near, show that this 
is a great converging 
point for travelers and 
produce to an important 
back country. The place was formerly called Centerville, 
but now is named after the owner of a hotel in the village, 
in the rear of the station, where are also extensive flour- 
mills. He is proprietor of the surrounding land, on which 
there is plenty of game, so that Turner's is a favorite re- 
sort for a day's sport to our city gentry. 

The road now enters a fine rolling country, where the 
vast pasturages and scant woods show that we are enter- 
ing the heart of the dairy region, that has made Orange 
county, to house-keepers from Maine to Texas, a synonym 
with butter and milk ; and one of the largest of these de- 
pots we recognize in the next stopping-place, the village of 
Monroe (from New York 49^ miles, from Dunkirk 
410i miles). This neat little village, the largest we 
have reached since leaving Piermont, is said to be the 
greatest milk depot on the road, as you may judge from 
the number of cans waiting for a down trip and those dis- 
charged. Two hundred cans are said to be sent hence to 
New York every day, each can averaging about 15 gal- 
lons. The milk is furnished in different lots by adjacent 
dairy-men, some of whom own from 60 to 90 cows. Deal- 
ers in New York contract for this article at two cents per 
quart, delivered at the depots. Its freight costs half a 
cent per quart. The increasing demand for milk increas- 
es the value of land, and makes it profitable to the dairy- 
man. The superior quality of the milk of Orange is owing 



44 



Gfl IDE-BO >K i IF THE 




to the peculiar nature of its grasses, which, with plenty 
of good water and long skill in dairy farms, puts this 
county at the head of all pasturages. 

A person stopping a day at any of these milk depots 
will soon see the keenness of the dairy-men to convert ev- 
ery drop of the staple into gold. Just as the California 
miner does not deck his person with "big specimens" — 
just as the town of Cologne does not apply its fragrant 
staple to purify its own foul self — -just as a confectioner 
does not realize a child's belief that he breakfasts upon 
candy and dines upon bon-bons, so the dairy-men of Or- 
ange show their indifference to milk and butter as luxu- 
ries ! They literally do not know "on which side their 
bread is buttered/' because they use none, and to their 
fastidious palates, cream spoils the flavor of tea ! Those 
of you, then, that preserve your early love for bread and 
butter, and believe in the essentiality of cream to a cup 
of " China's fragrant herb," go not to Orange any more 
than you would visit Champagne for a draught of choice 
Sillery ! The effect of this love of gain is to decrease the 



NEW YORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 45 

amount of butter made in. Orange, the sale of its original 
form being more lucrative. 

Monroe is a thriving village, having several spacious 
stores, a hotel well kept and comfortable, and contains 
about 700 inhabitants. It was first settled in 1742, un- 
der the name of Smith's Clove. It next figured under the 
funny title of Cheese Cocks! In 1802 it was renamed 
Smithfield, and at last, in 1808, it was changed to its 
present patriotic but universal title, after President Mon- 
roe. It got its first name from its settler, one Claudius 
Smith, afterward a notorious chief of the " Cow Boys" of 
the Revolution, who made the country, extending as far 
as Ramapo, the scene of their murders and depredations. 
He was hung by the Whigs in 1779, and his son Dick, in 
revenge, eclipsed his father in infamy. In Eager's His- 
tory of Orange County, the reader will find an interesting 
account of these villains, their misdeeds, and the punish- 
ment they suffered. No better materials for a romance 
of the rogue and ruffian school can be found any where 
The aforesaid Claudius Smith would make a capital hero. 
He was well educated, had wit, and a tall, handsome per- 
son. Here are two specimens of his waggish humor when 
in extremity. Just before the hangman " worked him off," 
a person he had robbed of some valuable papers begged 
him to reveal where they were. "Wait till you see me 
in the next world," was the cool reply of Claudius. In 
his early wicked youth, his mother had predicted he would 
die "like a trooper's horse, with his shoes on!" a proph- 
ecy the Cow Boy remembered, and belied by kicking offhih 
shoes as soon as he had mounted the scaffold. 

At Monroe Ave again enter a light descending grade, ex- 
tending 14 miles. 

Oxford (from New York 52 miles, from Dunkirk 408 
miles), three miles beyond Monroe, is a neat, thriving 
place, situated in a part of the country where the surface 
is more broken into hill and dale. Looking south from the 



16 '.lliJK-BOOK OF nil, 




stalion, the very choicest specimen of the Orange county 
scenery may be had here, combining all the elements of 
a fine pastoral landscape, the cultivated hills receding in 
the distance, that is closed up by the conical summit of 
Sugar-loaf. The great charm about an Orange land- 
scape is the fact of its being a grazing region. In sum- 
mer, of course, it does not wear the rich flush which fields 
of grain lend the prospect ; but then, again, instead of 
unsightly stubble-fields, we see successive pastures, where 
the cattle wander undisturbed over their rich velvet mead- 
ows. Two miles beyond Oxford the road emerges from 
this rolling country upon a range of marshy, level fields, 
extending miles in length and one mile in breadth. 

At this point (from New York 54 miles, from Dunkirk 
406 miles) the branch rail-road to Newburgh starts from 
the parent stem, and is 19 miles in length. This beautiful 
road was built by the New York and Erie Rail-road Compa- 
ny, and forms a part of their road. It was opened formally 
on the 8th of January, 1850. Since then, all the anticipa- 
ted advantages it held out are in the way of being realized, 
that is, bringing the west river counties into rapid connec- 
tion with the southern tier. Its width of track is the same 
as the main road, and cost about half a million of dollars- 



NEW VOKK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. I < 

The marshy flat extending between this point of junc- 
tion and the town of Chester, one mile distant, is called 
Gray Court Meadoivs, and have evidently been the ba- 
sin of some great sheet of water. The road crosses these 
meadows by a long, curved embankment, the visible por- 
tion of which is the least part of its expense or labor, for, 
in running the track across, the soil was soft to such a 
depth as to render it necessary to build the road upon a 
foundation of huge piles, driven nearly ninety feet into the 
earth, and six feet apart. A most formidable difficulty 
was thus overcome, and the bog is passed by a high bridge 
of an enduring foundation. The track is a considerable 
height above the meadows, and is filled in solidly with 
earth. These singular meadows are very fertile, and are 
principally planted with corn. A more extraordinary 
product, however, has been found in them. Near Chester, 
a few years since, was found a very fine specimen of the 
Mastodon, the strange animal whose bones so long puzzled 
naturalists. Many specimens have been found in Orange 
county, and in Eager's History the reader will find a highly 
interesting account of the various discoveries. The first 
mastodon ever discovered in this country was found near 
Albany in 1705. The next was in Ohio, in 1739. In 
1740, large quantities were found near the Big Bone Lick 
in Kentucky, and carried to France, where it was called 
the Animal of the Ohio. The next locality richest in 
these relics is Orange county. The first of these was dis- 
covered near Montgomery in 1782. Twelve more were 
found in that vicinity up to 1845. The finest of these was 
found seven miles east of Montgomery, and had all the 
bones perfect. It was 33 feet long, and six feet below the 
surface of a peat formation, that extended several feet be- 
low the bones, thus preserving the natural standing posi- 
tion of the animal, as though it had been mired. Many 
are the theories of hoiv these monsters met their fate, and 
we will refer the curious reader to Mr. Eager's compiled 



48 GUIDE-BOOK OF THE 

explanations, as they will be found very entertaining. As 
a specimen of the author's mode of treating the subject, 
hear the following points of difference between the mas- 
todon and elephant: "The elephant's toes are built up 
compactly under his feet, while the mastodon has long, 
projecting toes. The spinal process of the latter is also 
longer, thus giving to his neck more upright action, mak- 
ing him carry a higher head than the elephant, and giv- 
ing him a gay and comparatively sprightly appearance /" 
To those who have not "seen" this lively species of the 
antediluvian "elephant," the author's hints are quite sug- 
gestive of the animal's animated bearing ! We will also 
refer to the same book for a copy of a letter written by 
Governor Dudley to the Reverend Cotton Mather in 1705, 
concerning the specimens found near Albany. The gov- 
ernor suspected the bones "to be those of a human be- 
ing whom the flood alone could wash away," and during 
which, for a while, he might have "carried his head above 
the clouds" (of course, like the mastodon, with a " gay and 
sprightly appearance!"), though at last obliged to "give 
way!" He also thinks this giant must have been "the 
product of one of those unequaled matches between heav- 
en and earth, of which he had read in the traditions of the 
Jewish rabbins." But we will not wade deeper into this 
subject, for fear of being mired ourselves ; and with this 
notice of the fossil products of Orange (quite as remarka- 
ble as the statistics of milk and butter), we will hurry 
across the meadows to the prettily-situated town of 

Chester (from New York 55 miles, from Dunkirk 405 
miles). This is the largest village we have met going 
from Piermont, from which it is distant 41 miles, and from 
its station presents a business-like appearance. The vil- 
lage is divided into two parts, East and West Chester, 
separated by a high hill, topped with neat dwellings, sur- 
rounded by gardens. East Chester, that lies near the sta- 
tion, possesses numerous large store-houses, showing the 



NEW YORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 



4'J 




amount of business done here. The population is about 
1500. The view from the station, looking east, affords a 
fine view of the " meadows" we have crossed, and to the 




50 GUIDE-BOOK OF THE 

southward the cone of Sugar-loaf Mountain towers up in 




bold relief. Chester is another stopping-place for travel- 
ers bound for Greenwood Lake, eight miles distant. 

At Chester the road passes through the hill above the 
village by a deep cut, and brings us to the very heart of 
the county, every inch of soil being mapped out into sheets 
of smooth-shaven slopes, that look like the oldest part of 
Old England. The farm-houses look neat and substantial, 
and, after an interesting run of four miles and a half, we 
enter the far-famed town of 

Goshen (from New York 59i miles, from Dunkirk 400| 
miles). This is the first incorporated town we have 
reached, and, with Newburgh, is the half-shire of the 
county. It is by fame, if not in point of fact, the greatest 
depot of milk and butter, its brand being known through- 
out the world. The town is situated in the very center 
of the county, was settled in 1712, and incorporated in 
1809. The approach from the east is very beautiful, as 
the road reveals a glimpse of the public square, neat 
churches, and public buildings interspersed with trees. 
We enter the southern suburbs, and pass through the main 
business street, at the west end of which is the station. 
The traveler, stepping back into this spacious street, finds 
himself at once in the center of a bustling, thriving town — 



NEW YORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 



51 



large hotels, extensive stores, and crowds of country wag- 
ons showing the current of business done here. A walk 




to the public square will show, too, that the Goshenites 
■ have great taste and style in the houses of the quieter por- 
tion of the town. The only dark feature in the aspect of 
Goshen is the colony of negroes to he found in its southern 
and western precincts, and who evidently live in a state 
of squalor and idleness not to be surpassed in any South- 
ern city. They seem as though ruled out of the white 
circles ; the men looking idle and dissipated, and the wom- 
en filthy and abandoned. Let any one saunter round that 
locality on some warm day, and the swarms of these crea- 
tures visible will prove the truth of what is here said of 
them. 

No community along the Erie Rail-road has been more 
benefited than Goshen. It has been almost made by it, 
and the same may be said of the whole county. We have 
already alluded to the beautiful buildings that ornament 
the public square and its neighborhood. Conspicuous 
among these are the court-house and the monument, that 



■yj. GUIDE-BOOK OF THE 

tells of a story of great tragic interest. As this county 
was the western boundary of the settlements during the 
Revolution, its history is full of stirring events, in which 
the settlers struggled with the Indians and their white 
allies. The flame of patriotism nowhere burned brighter 
than in this region. It is said that a portrait of George 
the Third over the court-house entrance, the morning after 
the arrival of the news of the first conflict with the Brit- 
ish troops, was torn down, never again to reappear. The 
monument refers to a very fatal and interesting story. In 
1779, John Brandt, the famous chief of the Six Nations 
and great ally of the British, destroyed the town of Mini- 
sink, ten miles west of Goshen, and slew those who could 
not escape by flight. Laying waste the farms, he retreat- 
ed, with immense quantities of stock and other booty, to 
the main body of his forces on the Delaware. A body 
of 400 men were at once raised in Orange, and dispatched 
in pursuit. They overtook the Indians near the mouth 
of the Lackawaxen ; but Brandt, by consummate general- 
ship, dodged the New York troops, and getting in their 
rear, finally surrounded them. A murderous fire from the 
concealed foe at once threw the militia into confusion ; but, 
getting behind trees, they bravely but vainly tried to beat 
back the fatal circle of their foes. One half of their num- 
ber had fallen, the rest took to flight ; but thirty only re- 
turned to tell the story of defeat. Among the slain were 
some of the chief citizens of Goshen. In 1822, the bones 
of the slain were collected and brought to Goshen, where 
they were buried with honors of the most imposing solem- 
nity, in the presence of at least 12,000 persons, drawn from 
all parts of the adjacent country. Among those present 
was a Major Poppino, a survivor of the battle, and then 
nearly 100 years old. 

The wealth of Goshen and its surrounding cotmtry is 
well known. The farmers here can boast of fortunes flow- 
ing from the excellent product of what he of the "Knick- 



NEW YORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. do 

erbocfcer" pleasantly calls their " udderiferous kine !" 
There is one circumstance that must strike every visitor 
with surprise. The country carts, wagons, horses, and 
even cattle, which he sees in the market-space near the 
station, are by no means of such an appearance as he ex- 
pects to see in a region of such "fatness" as the land of 
Goshen. On the contrary, one would suppose he were in 
the most impoverished district of Maryland, and he looks 
round in vain for the jolly farmer, the plain but substan- 
tial wagon, the sleek, well-tended, sturdy draught-horse, 
or the plump, well-fed kine ! If we saw such animals 
here, Goshen, the butter -known, would indeed be a can- 
nie-looking town ! 

From Goshen the road runs along almost a level, and 
brings us fairly into the Valley of the Walkill, that runs 
through this county and Ulster to empty into the Hudson 
near Rondout. The soil along the Walkill is generally of 
a peat formation, making extensive marshy flats, called 
the Drowned Lands,, similar to the Gray Court Mead- 
ows, and in which the mastodon has been chiefly found. 

New Hampton (from New York 63^ miles, from Dun- 




kirk 396^ miles) is our next station. It is four miles be- 
yond Goshen, and stands on the west bank of the Walkill 



54 



■ ■ 



GUIDE-BOOK OF THE 



It is simply a station, consisting of a large hotel, with a 
few spacious store-houses ; in fact, one of the new places 
that have started into life hy the creation of the rail-road, 
which passes the river hy a strong hridge. A short dis- 
tance below is an extensive woolen factory, which, how- 
ever, has seen its best days, and looks somewhat decayed. 
The view of these mills from the bridge is interesting. 
Here the light descent of the road ceases, and we move 
over an ascending grade extending several miles. 

Middletown (from New York 67 miles, from Dunkirk 
393 miles), three miles beyond New Hampton, is the next 
town in importance to Goshen, which it far surpasses in 
point of manufactures. It has not the dignity and beauty 
of the latter, having a habit of smoking from its many fac- 
tory-pipes which Goshen does not indulge in. It is situ- 
ated in the midst of a rich, level country, and altogether 
wears a prosperous look The most important branch of 




business done here is the production of stoves and iron ware 
at the Orange County Foundry, which is quite an extens- 
ive establishment, and supplies the whole county. This 
place is emphatically the growth of the rail-road, and its 
rapid increase threatens to eclipse Goshen itself. A hill 
of gradual ascent runs along to the north of the town, 



NEW YORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 55 

which, with its neat churches and other prominent build- 
ings, looks well from that eminence The great number 




of residences scattered along this height show the taste of 
the richer class of the community. 

Leaving Middletown, we soon find ourselves gradually 
getting into a more rolling and mountainous tract of coun- 
try, and a rocky cut, which we pass a few miles further, 
prove that the pleasant fields and gentle vales we have 
been passing for the last hour must be exchanged for scen- 
ery made up of "sterner stuff." 

Howell's (from New York 71 miles, from Dunkirk 389 
miles), four miles beyond Middletown, is simply a station, 
with a small hotel and a store or two. From an embank 
ment which we pass here, there is a remarkable view of 
the high, cultivated mountain ridge, that gradually be- 
comes bolder and higher, a foretaste of the chain of hills 
we are soon to meet directly across our path. We are 
now approaching the verge of Orange county. The rich- 
ness of the soil, however, remains yet manifest in the 
cultivation of these same hills closing rapidly around us. 
We must soon bid adieu to the pastoral features of the Or- 
ange landscape, which we see in striking perfection when 



56 



GUIDE-BOOK OF THE 




'" 



passing over the curved embankment four miles beyond 
Ho well's. Looking north lies before us a vast range of 
cultivated valley, skirted with blue bills in the distance, 




and on the left swelling into the great bulk of the Shaw- 
angunk Mountain, that heaves skyward its shaven sides. 



NEW YORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 57 

This mountain is of an extraordinary character. There 
is not one inch of its eastern side and its summit that is 
not of the highest fertility and cultivation, and more so as 
you ascend from the valley, while its western face (soon 
to be revealed to us) is a mass of rock and forest, much of 
it unfit for cultivation, and remaining in a state of primi- 
tive wildness. A short distance from this interesting view 
we arrive at 

Otisville (from New York 15\ miles, from Dunkirk 
384-i- miles). This is a small village, named after its first 
settler, Isaac Otis, Esq., now a merchant in New York. 
It has two hotels, and the dwellings on the hill above the 




station make a pretty show from the west. It is an im- 
portant station, having an engine house, &c. ; and then, 
again, it is the furthest verge of the milk region. The 
milk-trains start from this point, and, of course, that fact 
gives additional consequence to the place. "We therefore 
take a last look at the cans that have been constantly in 
our sight thus far. We here find ourselves confronted by 
the great Shaivangunk ridge, to pass which was for a 
long time considered the great obstacle to the progress of 
the road. A tunnel was first proposed, and was so rec- 
ommended by a board of engineers, to be 2700 feet in 
length, with grades of 40 feet to the mile for the curves, 

3* 



GTM HE-BOOK OF THK 



and 80 feet for the straight sections. This plan was 
deemed the best means to overcome the height of the 
mountains, so much greater on the western side, down 
which it was necessary to pass to the valley below ; but 
it was found that by making the road descend the west- 
ern side by an extensive curve running south toward the 
Delaware River, the difficulty could be surmounted with- 
out a tunnel. This was the plan adopted and executed, 
and nowhere can be found a greater triumph of the engi- 
neer's skill. 

Leaving Otisville, we ascend a grade of 40 feet to the 
mile, leading to this great passage of the mountain. At 
the distance of a mile we come to the point where the first 
struggle with the barrier occurs. Thfs is a thorough rock- 
cutting, 50 feet deep and 2500 feet in length. Its pro- 
digious " pass" is intersected twice by a turnpike leading 
from Goshen to Port Jervis, in the valley westward, which 
shows the roundabout style of travel made necessary by 
the old modes of conveyance. Emerging from this great 
cut, we find ourselves on the summit of the ascent, and 
the road, curving southwardly, proceeds by a slope of many 
miles along the mountain's 
side to the valley below. We 
now catch a glimpse of the 
west front of the Shaican- 
gimk, in all its savage and 
untamed grandeur. This 
point is also frequently call- 
ed Deer-park Gap. The 
word Shaivangunk is In- 
dian, and means " white- 
rocks,'" alluding to the color 
of the rocks to be seen in its 
breast to the northeast. A 
little further on we look 
down upon the valley we are approaching — an unbroken 




NEW YORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 



sea of forest, with not a solitary hut to humanize the scene. 
No change could be more sudden and complete than what 
the prospect has undergone in ten minutes since looking 
at the east front of the Shawangunk. The ascent of this 
mountain from Otisville is about two miles in length, and 
here we see the next specimen of heavy work its pas- 
sage has made necessary. 
This is a heavy embank- 
ment, supported by a re- 
taining wall 1000 feet in 
length and 30 feet high. 
We are now descending 
the slope of ten miles be- 
fore us, and the scenery of 
the valley below is rapid- 
ly improving in interest 
and cultivation. A smile 
gradually breaks over the 
dull cheek of Nature Farm-houses and meadows relieve 
the solitude of this valley, to which the Neversink River 
gives its name. One of these views is of remarkable beau- 
ty. We perceive on the opposite side of the vale a shining 





strip of water curving round a spur of the mountains, with 
a small village adjacent. It is called Ouddebpek. This 



6U 



GUDE-hSUOK Of THL 




is the first glimpse Ave have of the Delaware and Hudson 
Canal, extending from Rondout to the coal and iron mines 
sit Carbondale, in Pennsylvania. Cuddeback was settled 
by the Dutch, and is one of the thriving little communi- 
ties that have sprung up along that important canal. This 
part of the valley figures conspicuously in the history of 
Indian warfare. Eight miles beyond Otisville we come 
to what is called Shin 
Hollow Switch. Here 
there is a deep cut 
through a soft soil 
three fourths of a mile 
in length and 30 feet 
deep. This portion of 
the road is of the most 
oppressive loneliness, 
for the valley is com- 
pletely shut out of 
sight, soon, however, 
to reappear in height- 
ened beauty and inter- 
est, after passing the 




NEW YORK AND ERIE RAlL-ROAU. 63 

great rock-cutting just two miles ahead of us. The ap- 
proach to this last formidable barrier in the descent of the 
mountain is very fine. We reach it by a high curved em- 
bankment, and see on each side of us a steep wall of slate 
rock 50 feet in height and 2500 feet in length. And now 
let the traveler place himself on the right side of the train 
(going westward), to catch the noble prospect prepared for 
him on emerging from this dark pass. At its very portal 
the road makes a sudden curve southward, and from the 
precipitous mountain side, along the edge of which we de- 
scend, he beholds the enchanting Valley of Neversink in 
all its cultivated beauty, its western verge bordered by a 
chain of mountains, at the foot of which gleams the vil- 
lage of Port Jervis, and its level fields losing themselves 
far in the south, where rolls the Delaware River ; beyond 
which, again, the town of Milford, Pennsylvania, 12 miles 
distant, may be seen in the misty horizon. A winding 
grove of trees runs southward over this fair plain, mark- 
ing the course of the Neversink. A few rods beyond this 
"cut," the traveler, looking north, may see another superb 
view, of an opposite character, the mountains swelling 




upward in the grandest forms. We have already alluded 
to the difference between the eastern and western heights 
of the Shawangunk Mountain, that of the west side being 
200 feet more than the opposite front. This has caused a 



64 



UUIDli-BOOK OF THE 



singular difference in the course of the streams of either 
valley. The Shawangunk Creek, on the east side, runs 
north to join the Walkill, a tributary of the Hudson, while 
the Neversink runs south to join the Delaware. The ori- 
gin of the name Neversink is, without doubt correctly, sup- 
posed to be aboriginal. 

Tbe descent of the Shawangunk is nearly ten miles 
in extent, and of- 
fers a succession 
of pleasing views, 
though becoming 
more and more 
contracted in ex- 
tent. When the 
slope ceases, our 
road again turns 
to the west, and, 
crossing the Nev- 
ersink by a bridge 55 feet high, with a span of 150 feet, 
brings us in full view of Port Jervis, that lies beautifully 






- 



NEW YORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 6-5 

at the foot of a range of bold and picturesque mountains. 
Within a few yards, on our left, we have the first view 
of the Delaware, flowing through its extensive " flats." 
That river we are now to , trace almost to its source. 
>u One mile from the bridge over the Neversink, we stop at 
'cxvli- Delaware (from New York 88i miles, from Dunkirk 
37 1£ miles). This important station is situated on a 






broad area between the Delaware and the open plateau 
on which the village of Port Jervis stands, some half mile 
north of the depot, and the whole appearance of the offi- 
ces of the company, the engine-houses and other buildings, 




conveys a just idea of the extent of the business done here. 
These have caused many dwellings and spacious stores to 
spring up around, in rivalry to the village on the hill, and 
the station is now called Port Jervis. 

It oilers excellent accommodations for a large number 
of visitors, that find its quarters agreeable enough dur- 



06 GUIDE-BOOK OF THE 

ing a sojourn in this picturesque locality. Ascending the 
height to the village, we find it nestling close to two mag- 
nificent high mountains, whose summits beetle over its 
dwellings, affording extensive views up and down the val- 
leys of the Neversink and Delaware. Port Jervis is named 
after Mr. John B. Jervis, engineer of the Delaware and 
Hudson Canal, and owes its origin and growth to that 
canal, which here passes through it, and, sweeping round 
these same mountains, extends up the former river in com- 
pany with the rail-road. 

The business done here is chiefly in coal and lumber, 
and its prosperity is written in the neat houses, churches, 
hotels, and stores. A large three-story stone grist-mill 

stands on the brink of the exninei overlooking the sta- 

"tion. A mail route passes through from Ulster county to 
Milford, Pennsylvania, where the tourist should not fail to 
take a drive, to see the picturesque Falls of the Sawkill 
in its vicinity. There is every inducement to stop for 
weeks at Delaware. There are innumerable drives and 
trips for the pedestrian in every direction, while to the 
artist there is every variety of scenery, from the bold rocky 
peak to the long, level flat, with the clumps of beech and 
willow along the river shore. The Delaware here shows 
the dangers that are covered over in the depth and force 
of its current. In dry weather its bed is almost a mass 
of stones, but the water-marks and wreck along the edge 
of its banks prove what a fullness and fury attends its 
freshets. South of the station it is crossed by a ferry, 
which, when the river "is up and doing" violence, re- 
quires the aid of a guideirope, rigged across the river in 
an odd fashion. The curious observer of such peculiarities 
will also be struck with the odd angular dams stretched 
across its current at low water, at the apex of which is a 
rough wooden trough. This is the eel-trap of the Dela- 
ware, which you will see throughout its whole course 
above this point. The eels of the Delaware are renowned 



NEW YORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 67 

for their delicious flavor — to those who like a fish of such 
"questionable shape" — and the Cockney that dotes on the 
eel-pies of Twickenham will vote the Delaware quite as 
elegant as old Father Thames ! A quarter of a mile 
south of the Neversink bridge that stream empties into 
the Delaware, and the narrow strip of land formed by this 
junction is called Carpenter's Point. Here the states of 
New York, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania all unite, and 
by putting one leg on the small stone marking the spot, 
one can describe a pirouette over the soil of those three 
commonwealths. The tourist is again solicited to ascend 
the heights overlooking Port Jervis, particularly Point Pe- 
ter, just above the upper village, and the more picturesque 
peak that forms so remarkable a feature in the view south 
of the ferry. A nobler panorama is not often seen. 

Delaware forms the termination of what is called the 
"Eastern Division" of the Erie Rail-road, and certainly 
no work of this sort presents a more interesting variety of 
soil, scenery, and local history. Traversing the romantic 
passes of Rockland and the rich and fertile fields of Or- 
ange, it takes its way through some of the oldest portions 
of the state, and gives us, between Otisville and Dela- 
ware, but a foretaste of the entirely new tracts of wild, 
unknown country we will find it is to open up for the first 
time farther west. In this section of 13 miles were en- 
countered the first serious, difficult opposition of the soil, 
as may be seen by stating a few items that may prove in- 
teresting. Between these points, 317,000 pounds of pow- 
der were used, 210,000 cubic yards of rock excavated, 
730,000 yards of earth removed, and 14,000 yards of stone 
wall built. While Otisville is 875 feet above the level of 
the sea, Delaware is but 500, and the descent between 
them is one of 45 feet to the mile. The road as far as 
Delaware was opened in January, 1848 ; leaving which 
place we follow the fine section of the road that stretches 
from the Neversink bridge due west to the extent of three 



G8 



GLIDE-HOOK OF THE 



miles, and pass through a spacious 
area that affords plenty of level 
ground for the wants of the com- 
pany at any time Going west from 
Delaware to Deposit, a distance of 
88 miles, the road is nearly level, 
the highest grade being 15 feet to 
the mile. The canal keeps along 
on our right, occasionally separa- 
ted from our path, but again clos- 
ing up, as if to enter its sluggish 
boats in a race with our iron steed 
At the end of two miles we enter a 
rude and uninteresting region, dot- 
ted with an occasional hamlet, and 
though the mountains on the left 
bank of the Delaware hug the stream, 





those on the right 
recede, leaving a 
vast plain, across 
■which the canal 
suddenly bends, 
and, as we pass 
it by a wooden 
bridge, a quiet 
Dutch picture is 
given us of its 



boats, its slow-plod- 
ding steeds in their 
dreary promenade, 
and the neat houses 
dotting the river's 
banks. Beyond this, 
a deep gravel cut 
brings us again to 
the Delaware, which 
we cross by what is 




NE"W YORK AM) ERIE KA1L-UOAD. 



09 



'called the " Saw-mill Rift Bridge" (from New York 92 
miles, from Dunkirk 368 miles), four miles from Delaware. 
This great structure is 800 feet long ; it is built of wood, 




supported by arches of 160, 150, and 140 feet span, and 
rests on piers of solid masonry. Its cost was $75,000. 

The view up and down the Delaware from this bridge 
is interesting, particularly the latter, that shows the bold 
precipice called the " Glass-house Rocks," on the south 




bank. The view up stream shows the canal and rail-road 
now on opposite sides of the river, with an island in the 
stream that here pours under the bridge a deep and rapid 
current. In crossing the Delaware, we not only leave Or- 



70 



GUIDE-LOOK OF THE 




auge county, but enter the land of Penn. The company 
wished to confine their road to the New York side of the 
river, but as they could not control the natural features 
of the country, nor alter state lines, and the narrow strip 
of passable ground along that bank being already occupied 
by the canal, the Legislature of Pennsylvania was applied 
to for right of way through that state. It was also neces- 
sary to obtain permission of the New York Legislature to 
construct a portion of their road up the Valley of the Del- 
aware River, on the Pennsylvania side, and after much 
difficulty, encountered through two sessions, the privilege 
was secured ; for which right, and benefit to that state, 
Pennsylvania charges the company ten thousand dollars 
a year .' A fine curve in the bank of the river beyond the 
bridge shows us 
a broadside view 
of that structure. 
with the n>./, 

heights farther on, % S^. -.; 
and in a few 
moments we are 
brought opposite 
the first of those 
majestic masses 
of mountain wall 



iiT-^K; 




NEW YORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 71 

that overshadow our way for miles to come. This huge 
wall of rock and foliage tower* over the right hank of the 
Delaware, and at its base winds the thread-like Delaware 
and Hudson Canal, the figures of the boatmen, horses, 
&c, dwindled to insignificant size by contrast with the 
bulky heights above. A short distance up its side is seen 
a solitary shanty, with men dwarfed to ants, picking out 
the scant loose soil among the rocks to patch the canal, 
for over there such an article is as precious as gold dust 
There is a breadth and grandeur in this massive mount- 
ain screen exceedingly impressive, and the effect is height- 
ened by the simple strip of rail-road and a grove of trees 
that form the foreground on our side of the river. "We 
are now entering the wild and lonely scenery of the Del- 
aware, and though a farm-house occasionally relieves the 
solitary and primeval character of the country, they are 
rapidly becoming less in number, and we wonder that so 
short a distance should exist between these uncultivated 
wilds and the teeming plains of Orange. The main em 
ployment and support of the population along the Del 
aware have been, since its settlement, drawn from it* 
lumber, that is carried by rafts down to Philadelphia and 
other points below ; and so the plow and all its civilizing 
influences has never been felt here, though the poverty 
of the soil has been a great obstacle. Consequently, ex- 
cept during the rafting season in spring and autumn, the 
Delaware appears a desolate stream indeed, with nothing 
to break its monotonous dullness save the occasional shout 
of the boatmen, the snort of the locomotive, the " still 
small" lapse of the river over the eel-trap, or the crack 
of a rifle, as the " far roll of its departing voice" is lost in 
the echoing hills ! 

Ei^ht miles and a half west of Delaware we come to 
Stairway Brook (from New York 97 miles, from Dun- 
kirk 363 miles). Does not the name of this station sug- 
gest a foaming streamlet tumbling down a rocky stair- 



72 GUIDE-BOOK OF THE 

case into the Delaware ? Stretch not your head vainly 
forth with any such expectation, fellow-traveler ! Nei- 
ther stairway nor streamlet is in sight, and near us we 
see nothing but a wood-pile and water-tank ; but turn 
your eyes toward the river, and look at that beautiful 
view — the river in the center, a richly- wooded hill on the 
right, with the canal curving round its base, a pleasing 
vista of retreating mountains, and this bold foreground, 




where a single stately tree, and a humble shanty with a 
garden-patch, preserve the nice balance between natme 
and civilization, that gives the prospect such peculiar beau- 
ty after the fatiguing solitariness of the scenes just passed. 
The snug houses clustering round the locks of the canal 
opposite are cheering to our spirits, and we feel disposed 
to answer back the faint hail of the boatmen. Perhaps 
we may be excused in an attempt to relieve the tedium 
of the unassociated tract of country lying before us by 
some reflections upon one of the features of the canal, 
which has been our constant though distant fellow-trav- 
eler for so many miles ; we mean the boy-drivers of the 
plodding animals that drag those rival vehicles, a near in- 
spection of whom (the boys) affords such a novel study 
Before rail ways had quite abolished in England the old 



NEW i'ORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 73 

modes of travel, no problem was more puzzling than 
"What became of the old 2 ]0S t-b°y s " — those venerable 
tenants of juvenile jackets and corduroys ? A similar 
query is suggested by a familiar study of these young ca- 
nal-boat drivers ; and the pencil of Charles Lamb, so hap- 
py in sketching those "innocent dark specks of creation," 
the chimney-sweeps, can alone do justice to these slowest 
of American jockeys ! Only look at the weather-beaten 
old-young figure bestriding that horse day after day, night 
after night, through wet and cold. Caught when so young 
that his legs protrude horizontally, and not hang, from the 
saddle, he remains there a fixture for his generally brief 
career — a sort of youthful Centaur — and in a short time 
the mingled air of martyrdom and meditation stamped 
upon his visage on his first elevation to office gives way 
to an expression of blank stolidity, the result of his mo- 
notonous duties, while the constant exposure to the ele- 
ments, and the corrupting intercourse of his older asso- 
ciates, make him, while still a child, old in constitution, 
morals, and disposition, taking from his young face every 
sign of boyish hilarity, and stamping there revolting traces 
of early dissipation of the vilest sort. Look at him as he 
lounges on that plodding horse, under the blaze of a dog- 
day sun ! How listlessly he sits there, in a sort of sun- 
struck doze — his bloated young cheeks, his puffy eye-lids, 
and the glaring light nearly concealing his glazed eyes — 
a thing of hopeless inanition, save when he starts up to 
vent an imprecation upon his charger, or exchange a black- 
guard jest with some passing vagabond mounted like him- 
self ! No blithe country lad is he, with the exhilarating 
influence of. nature's scenes acting upon young, excitable 
nerves and pulses ! Premature bad brandy and tobacco 
have burned and shriveled up such sensibilities. What 
to him is the fair, fresh face of the visible world ? Noth- 
ing but the blank, dead wall of a tread-mill. Perhaps he 
does now and then glance sidelong at the shadow of him- 
4 



74 GUIDE-BOOK OF THli 

self and steed, and descant on their own deformity. There 
is no change to his existence save that brought by the sea- 
sons, and the cold winter night-winds, when the canal is 
?wt frozen, that hoAvl down these dreary gorges, pierce 
through his mass of dirty woolens, and chill his weakened 
body with rain, sleet, and snow ! Like Mazeppa, inex- 
orably and inextricably bound to his horse, no wonder the 
feeble current in his motionless limbs succumbs to the 
blast, either crippling him by its nipping breath or stilling 
it altogether. Hence these unfortunate slow jockeys are 
often found in the canal, where they have either slipped 
while locked in half-frozen sleep or whole-drunken stu- 
pidity, or, which is quite as likely, by deliberate design to 
end their sufferings ! This is no overdrawn picture of ju- 
venile misfortune, but based on frequent accounts by those 
who know these boys and their condition. The confine- 
ment of the factory-child seems ease and enjoyment com- 
pared with this mock liberty and exercise of the canal- 
boat boy ! But what has this to do with our ?m7-road ? 
True ; and, begging pardon for such an ill-timed piece of 
sympathy, we will hurry over the three miles from Stair- 
way Brook to 

Pond Eddy (from New York 99| miles, from Dunkirk 
36(H miles). The Delaware, at this place making a sud- 
dep bend, forms one of those wide, deep basins called 




NEW YORK AND KKIE RAIL-ROAD^ 75 

ponds by the people here, constituting a remarkable feat- 
ure in the river ; hence the name of this station. Pond 
Eddy is a celebrated rendezvous for the lumber-men when 
rafting down the river, and during the season this basin 
is filled with a fleet of their broad vessels. Its depth is 
great enough to float a man-of-war, and yet a few hund- 
red yards above or below you may see a figure wading 
through the river to the eel-traps ! One can therefore 
imagine the force of this eddy during the rafting season. 
Pond Eddy is one of the humanized points on the Dela- 
ware, owing to the presence of raftsmen, for whose wants 
good accommodations are here, and the pretty hamlet 
round the canal-locks on the opposite side, always a charm- 
ing object in the scenery of this river. 

Beyond Pond Eddy the road assumes with every mile 
a more important character, while the landscape becomes 
wilder and more lonely. We run along a straight sec- 
tion, 30 feet above the river, marked off by natural abut- 
ments of gray rock and pendent hemlocks, that are old 
enough to have their evergreen foliage changed to a hoary 
and rusty hue ! The mountain we are skirting seems 
sliced down as deep as 115 feet to make our pathway. 
Two miles further we enter a grander portion of the road. 
The mountains rise perpendicularly from the river's edge, 




76 



GUIDE-BOOK Of THE; 



and along its breast we run securely, though on the brink 
of a precipice of 80 feet. A huge walled embankment 
and culvert in the curve of this section add to its inter- 
est. But not till we get four miles from Pond Eddy does 
the splendid engineering talent displayed in the construc- 
tion o*f this road show itself in its consummate daring, sub- 
limity, and success. It is a section very like the one just 
passed, but on a grander scale, showing a straight cut 
along the mountain side one mile long, and terminating in 
a beautiful curve, whence the best view of it is to be had. 




There it stretches, a gigantic gallery overlooking a sheer 
precipice of 100 feet above the river, and showing along 
its narrow edge enormous natural abutments of seamed 
and riven rock, as though they were placed to support the 
fearful pathway traversed by the heavy train. One of 
these natural abutments is depicted in the following page. 
Perhaps it is well that travelers generally see but little 
of this causeway from the cars, as its sublime features 
and the cliffs above might make them feel uncomfortable ; 



NEW YORK AND EK1K RAIL-ROAD 



77 








but it is well worth the tourist's while to walk along its 
terrace, in order to judge of the difficulties overcome in run- 
ning a road along such a frightful precipice. "What adds 
to its impressive grandeur is the contrast presented by the 
opposite shore, that rises gently from the river, skirted by a 
grove of willows, over which shines a calm strip of the ca- 
nal, bordered by smiling fields and snug dwellings. This 
contrast is more remarkable in the morning, when a vast 
shadow covers the dark pines and column-like crags that 
support the grand corridor just traversed, and the op 
posite meadows, groves, basin, boats, men, and figures 
sparkle in the dewy light. The solitary shanty near 
us, with its scant garden-patch, shows the little ground 
afforded for a human dwelling on our side of the Del- 
aware. It is said that while surveying this portion of 
the road, it was frequently necessary to let down the 
engineers by means of ropes to the positions they wished 
to attain ! To convey some idea of the labor expend- 
ed upon this great Shohola section, we will state that 
three miles of it cost $300,000 ! A sustaining wall in 






(,i [DE-BOOK of THE 



the last mile is 90 feet high, and contains 16,000 yards of 
stone. 

We now abruptly leave the Delaware for a while, and 
pass through a rock-cutting 
in the mountain dividing ^ 

that river from one of its 
tributaries, Shohola Creek, 




which we cross by a wood- 
en bridge 70 feet in height. 
Coming from the rocky grand- 
eur of the section just passed, 
it is refreshing to meet the 
strikingly Swiss-like charac- 
ter of this creek, the banks 
of which are covered with 
pointed masses of hemlock 
and pine. While skirting 
these groves, we see on our 
right an extraordinary rock- 
cutting, a perpendicular wall 50 feet high, the masses of 
which look as square and regular as chisel of mason could 
make them. Half a dozen tall burned and branchless 
hemlocks between us and the ravine of the creek makes 
a strong and savage contrast with the prevailing pictur- 




NEW VOKK AKD ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 



79 




esqueness of its scen- 
ery. But the gem of 
the views along this 
romantic stream is 
from the bridge, look- 
ing over its shaded 
dell below toward the 
village of Barryville, 
whose white dwell- 
ings shine through 
the tall evergreens 
springing from the 
edge of the creek, 
that is seen to join 
the Delaware on the 
right. We have nev- 
er seen more beauti- 
ful nooks than may be found on this creek, of whose mu- 
sical Indian name (no doubt very expressive of its singu- 
lar character) we regret not having heard any translation. 
Barryville (from New York 107 miles, from Dunkirk 
353 miles). This station lies a short distance beyond the 
creek, on a highly elevated point above the Delaware, that 
here makes a sudden bend a mile from the station, show- 
ing on its opposite bank the thriving village of Barryville. 
Shohola, as this station is commonly called, has but little 
business at present, though with time it must prove an 
important one, being so near the large village opposite. 
Barryville is another of the numerous offsprings of the 
Delaware and Hudson Canal, that passes through it. 
Besides the coal business established there by that canal, 
the immense piles of lumber and numerous saw-mills scat- 
tered along the shore below us show how much the great 
staple of the Delaware has to do with the prosperity of 
the place. A neat little hotel stands opposite this station, 
and the tourist, tempted to explore its beautiful creek, will 



80 GUIDE-BOOK OF THE 



find here those luxuries (so rare in this region), a clean 
bed and private room. From Shohola the road appears 
to descend to the river's side from the great height above 
the river on which the station is placed. It is still, how- 
eA r er, a slightly ascending grade, as you may perceive by 
its current, the river here (between the Shohola and Lack- 
awaxen above) making a gradual descent. In this vicin- 
ity was fought the bloody battle, or, rather, ambuscade, 
when Brandt and his warriors slaughtered and dispersed 
the New York militia, as noticed in speaking of Goshen, 
where a monument was erected to the memory of the slain. 
Lackawaxex (from New York 111 miles, from Dunkirk 
349 miles) is our next station, four miles beyond Shohola, 
and 23 from Delaware. We have, while approaching it, 
a fine view of the village, the rail-road bridges over the 
river of the same name, and the great aqueduct here 
thrown across the Delaware for the passage of the canal, 
which has so long been our opposite companion. This 
aqueduct is supported by an iron wire suspension bridge, 
and conducts the canal over to the valley of the Lackawax- 
en, up which it extends to Honesdale, Pennsylvania, and 
is there connected with the mines at Carbondale by a rail- 
road. Lackawaxen stands at the confluence of the river 



NEW YORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 81 

with the Delaware, that is here dammed across under the 
aqueduct, supplying great water-power to the saw-mills 
in this thriving place. Its iron trade is also of importance, 
and altogether the station here must prove eventually an 
important one. The rail-road traverses the Lackawax- 
en River and part of its vale hy two substantial bridges, 
which, with the aqueduct, make the distant view of the 
village very remarkable and interesting. Our prurient 
curiosity to trace the meaning of Indian names was en- 
tirely at fault in its attempt to explain the word Lacka- 
waxen, or Lackaivack, as it is often called We were 
told it meant the "junction of streams," a translation we 
have heard given to a dozen Indian names of different or- 
thography and sound. Could there have been such a rad- 
ical difference in the dialects of the Indian tribes ? 

Being the outlet of the valley along which flows such a 
tide of trade connected with the mines of the interior, the 
Delaware, and the Hudson, there is every advantage in 
favor of the great growth of this village and its station. 
Beyond Lackawaxen we cross a small bridge, and continue 
following the Delaware, with its rafts, piles of timber, and 
constant lanes in the mountain's side for the descent of the 
logs. Further on we leave the river, and five and a half 
miles from our last stopping-place we reach 

Mast Hope (from New York 116 miles, from Dunkirk 
344 miles). This is a station of but little importance, 
lying in a more open part of the Delaware Valley, Its 




82 



f;iinr:-r.ooK of titk 



name sounds very odd, and is said to be a corruption of two 
Indian words, whose signification we could not discover. 

Two miles further we recross the Delaware into New 
York by a wooden bridge 580 feet long, with four spans, 
the two central of which are 160 feet in width. We are 




now in Sullivan county, which lies to the west of Orange. 
This part is called Lumberland, though, indeed, thaftitle 
might be applied to all its southern or river boundary, for 
there is but little of the soil improved. This part of the 
county, before the construction of the road, was but little 
known. The scenery along the river is sensibly becoming 
tamer than it appears east of Shohola. The road, for four 
miles beyond the bridge, winds so much that one's ideas of 
the points of the compass are all at fault, so that, though 
our general course should be west, we enter Narrows- 
burgh from the southwest. 

NARROwsBURGit (from New York 122 miles, from Dun- 
lurk 338 miles), though not the most picturesque, is cer- 




NEW YORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 



'■■■ 



tainly one of the most delightful stations along the road. 
There is an air of industry, prosperity, and comfort ahout 
every thing refreshing to behold after what we have 
passed. The company's offices are well built, the refresh- 
ment-rooms filled with abundance, and near them is a large 
hotel, (and if as it was,) one of the best and most comfort- 
able houses to be found any where. The proof of that is 
the number of families and single persons that board here 
during the summer. Narrowsburgh is another of the rap- 
idly-growing communities which the rail-road has scat- 
tered along its path. Where, a few years since, were only 
a farm-house and hotel, now stands a village, with stores 
and dwellings clustering round the beneficent presence of 
a station. The village, as it may be called, lies on the 
margin of the Delaware, that here is locked in between 




I 




two points of rock, whose narrow gorge gives the place its 
title of JSfarrou'sbvLYgh, though the lumbermen call it by 
its old name, Big Eddy, because, during a freshet, there 
rushes through these " narrows" the " biggest kind of 



84 GUIDE-BOOK OF THE 

an eddy. Over the " narrows" is flung a wooden bridge, 
with a single span of 184 feet — a monstrous span, but not 




more so than the monstrous tolls for traversing it. These 
are very high, and act prejudicially to Narrowsburgh, by 
diverting into other routes the produce that would flow 
into this station. The amount of business done here is 
proved by the appearance of the freight-houses. The sur- 
rounding country is the region of tanneries, owingr to the 
abundance of hemlock ; and, in addition to the leather in- 
terests, the direct communication with the mines of Car- 
bondale supply other sources of trade. The scenery around 
Narrowsburgh is very beautiful, and affords fine drives and 
strolling-grounds. The land, fortunately, is in the hands 
of a gentleman (Mr. Corwin) who has had the good taste 
to preserve the tine park-like trees dotting the beautiful 
meadow between the station and the river, and do ev- 
ery thing to make Narrowsburgh a favorite summer re- 
sort. BeloAV the narrows spoken of the Delaware expands 
into a wide basin, which, during a freshet, exhibits a stir- 
ring scene. It is said the fury of the current through the 
" narrows" is such that no boat could live in it ; and when 
large trees heave and toss in its eddies, a wilder scene can 
not be imagined. Mr. Corwin says he has dropped in it 
a line 120 feet long, with a weight of 28 pounds attached, 
without touching bottom. In the winter of 1850, when 



NEW YORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 85 

the river was frozen over, a sudden rise of its waters pro- 
duced a novel scene in that gorge. The pressure of the 
swollen tide underneath caused the sheet of ice covering 
the hasin below to heave in regular waves, till at last, giving 
way, the crash and roar of the floating fragments, as they 
were piled on each other, made a picture of true sublimity. 

Another recommendation to a sojourn at Narrowsburgh 
is the abundance of game. In short, the tourist, artist, 
and sportsman will find this station well worthy a visit, 
and the entire region about it possessing unusual attractions 
to each and all of them. 

Beyond Narrowsburgh the country reassumes a dull, 
uncultivated aspect, and one would suppose that the right 
of way through such a district could not be expensive, 
though, indeed, the poverty of the soil and general worth- 
lessness of a tract are no proofs of the ease with which a 
road is run through such land. And what a chapter of 
fun and fury might be found in the legal history of a road, 
growing out of this same delicate question of right of way. 
What sudden rises in the value of gravelly hills or boggy 
flats occur as soon as such choice territories are threatened 
with destruction by the appearance of the rail-road ! Pro- 
prietors, quite williiig a few days before to give away ev- 
ery other acre of their darling bogs and gravel-banks, sud- 
denly become afraid of selling them too cheap, and ask the 
prices of San Francisco town lots ! They ask thousands 
and get hundreds ; and though their sales make them com- 
fortable for life, many remain sworn enemies to the very 
road that enriches them ! If the land agents of the com- 
pany would only publish their diaries, they would excel in 
fun just as the Diary of a Physician does in tragic interest. 
And while on the subject of the right of way, listen, fel- 
low-traveler, to this odd illustration of it that occurred dur- 
ing the first survey of the road, near Monroe. While the 
engineers were running a line in that quarter, one of these 
landed, gentry refused them permission to effect their pur- 



86 GUIDE-BOOK OF THE 

pose through a certain field of his. They did not notice 
his warning or his threats ; but one morning, just as they 
had assembled with their tools on the forbidden ground, a 
ferocious bull rushed upon them, roaring like one of his 
Bashan progenitors, with tail erect and head lowered in 
a very threatening manner. The farmer had placed him 
there in ambush the night before, and now stood near, 
watching the issue of the conflict. A very short survey, 
indeed, of the animal, was needed by the engineers, who 
forthwith "ran a line" to the fence with unexampled di- 
rectness and dispatch. The bull, thus left master of the 
field, amused himself with a stampede among the deserted 
instruments. A parley was then held, and the professionals 
declared that if the bull was not-removed they would shoot 
him ; and some shooting-irons being soon produced for that 
purpose, the farmer gave in, and the bull was taken out. 
It seemed, however, that the animal "fed fat the ancient 
grudge" he bore the profession, for when' the first locomo- 
tive appeared on the scene of his defeat, he lay in ambus- 
cade for the unconscious engine, and, rushing toward it, 
they met in full career, and his bullship was converted 
into fresh beef on the spot ! 

Four miles beyond Narrowsburgh Abe monotonous and 
solitary track along the river suddenly emerges into ex- 
tensive plains of the greatest fertility. Orchards are in- 
terspersed among these, and, two miles of these cheering 
fields being passed, we stop at 

Cochecton (from New York 131 miles, from Dunkirk 
329 miles). The station here is of the simplest descrip- 
tion ; but the views from it, looking toward the village 
and up and down the valley, are truly beautiful (see next 
page). The valley of the Cochecton presents the richest 
streak of fat mercifully inserted between the two solitary 
and barren banks of this lumbering river. It is about two 
miles long, averaging one mile in breadth. One mile from 
the station we enter the valley, and, while the Delaware 



NEW YORK AND ERIE RAIL-EOAD. 



S7 




keeps close to the mountains to the west, the rail-road fol- 
lows the curving base of the hills on the east, thus mak- 




ing the valley elliptical in form, for at the distance of two 
miles road and river again unite The valley is evident- 
ly an alluvial deposite, as hardly a stone can he found 
upon its level surface, while fifteen feet below are found 
cobble-stones precisely like those forming the bed of the 
river. At the southern end layers of leaves have been 
found several feet under ground, well preserved, and ly- 
ing in a strata of sand and earth. This character of the 
soil throws an air of probability over the correctness of 
the signification given to the name of the valley — Cochec- 
ton — which is said by the inhabitants to mean "increase," 
and by the Indians used to describe the formation of its 
soil. In the spring of the year, the waters of the Dela- 



R8 UUlDE-nOOK OF THE 

ware above Narrowsburgh are, during freshets, sometimes 
so dammed up by the narrow gorge they pass through at 
that place, that this valley is quite inundated. The sed- 
iment thus deposited enriches the land to its present fer- 
tility, and crops of rye, oats, buckwheat, and corn are very 
productive. Along its rich acres are some twenty dwell- 
ings, two churches, and two stores. The New burgh turn- 
pike crosses the valley mid-length, and passes over the 
Delaware by a wooden bridge. On the other side of the 
river at that point lies the town of Damascus, a thriving 
Pennsylvania community, finely situated in a beautiful 
glen, that furnishes water-power lor the mills of the vil- 
lage. A large academy has now been erected there. The 
country around Damascus abounds with scriptural names, 
and furnishes in this respect an odd contrast to this sec- 
tion of the New York branch of the Delaware, where the 
musical and expressive names used by the Indians are 
carefully preserved. It is amusing to hear the honest 
denizens of this region speak of the change caused by im- 
proved means of travel. Many of the old settlers here 
still remember when Newburgh was the nearest market, 
and that over rough roads, involving a journey of days ; 
now six hours only are sufficient to bring them to the 
greatest of all markets, New York city, a distance of 122 
miles. Beyond Cochecton the road rejoins the river, and 
for some dozen miles follows the windings of its stream 
through scenery which, neither wild nor stupid, be- 
comes positively tiresome from its sameness and tame- 
ness. There are few traces of man in these tracts, and 
when the river is low a torpor seems to rest over the suc- 
cession of sleek, sloping points of its shores, that shows 
nothing but a solitary raft half aground, or a faint attempt 
at a smile from the ripple over the eel-dam. Not even 
the fact that this was the scene of the stirring incidents 
in Cooper's "Last of the Mohicans" lights up the scenery 
with interest, and we rejoice when, at the end of four 



NEW YORK AND EK1E RAIL-ROAD. 89 

miles from Cochecton, we see the round slopes of the 
mountains breaking up into rugged profiles, and a rock- 
cutting or two threatening to topple down upon us. Six 
miles beyond Cochecton we cross the Calicoon Creek by 
a wooden bridge, and reach the station of the same name 




Calicoon (from New York 136 miles, from Dunkirk 
324 miles) stands in the heart of a wild, and, till lately, 
unknown country. Not many years since wild animals 
roamed the forests along its creek, and a race of old hunt- 
ers dwells here, that still recount their adventures with 
them and the Indians. Tanneries now abound in the 
neighborhood, and the leather and other freight in the 
store-houses prove that, lonely as the station appears, its 
business is not slight. The Calicoon Creek is full of wild 
scenery, and is stocked with game and trout. Its name 
— Calicoon — has caused a war of opinion among the in- 
habitants on its banks. Some say it is the Indian word 
for turkey, a bird that once abounded here, and gave 
the stream its name. Others insist that it is of Dutch 
origin, and also means turkey. Our informant inclines 
to the first theory, and bases his belief on the authority 
of one Tom Quick, of whom he tells the following little 
story, illustrative of the habits of the Indian fighters of 
this region. Bill Quick, the father of Tom, was one 
of the most noted of these hunters and fighters. The 



■'■ IMR -BOOK OF THE 







Indians murdered Bill's father, and the son swore revenue 
upon them to the extent of one hundred lives, that be- 
ing his sire's estimated value in red-skins. Bill hast- 
ened to put his vow in execution, and no amateur dog- 
slayer in the month of August ever went to work with 
more zeal than did Bill with his knife and rifle. Those 
trusty weapons every day gave him his daily head. He 
did not carry off their scalps ; those would have been but 
common-place certificates of his performances. He brought 
away their entire heads, and, having dissected and labeled 
them, carefully put them away on shelves in his hut. The 
collection of heads thus " wisely kept for show" rapidly 
increased with his skill and practice. His vigilance was as 
extraordinary in eluding his foes as in decapitating them. 
In vain they tried to entrap the pale face whom they 
knew was thus rapidly thinning out their tribe. At last 
the mortality became so great, and his safety seemed so 
secure, that they, believing him to use supernatural agen- 



NEW YORK AND ERIK RAIL-ROAD. 91 

cy, avoided him and his haunts altogether. This did not 
please the collector of Indian heads, for, his returns he- 
ginning to come in more slow, he feared that too many 
years would be necessary to accomplish his vow. His 
skulls now increased slowly, though steadily, and an acute 
chronologist might have guessed the increasing lapses of 
time between the red " flesh-tints" of his last deposite and 
the mellow hues and ivory gloss of its predecessor. Time, 
too, was doing his work upon Bill. The eye of the bold 
hunter of men was growing less keen in detecting the red- 
skins, his step not so active in dodging them, and his hand 
shook while "covering" them with his rifle. Age, how- 
ever, could not quench his determination to fulfill his vow. 
However languidly he awoke in the morning, one glance 
at the shelves of his grinning phrenological cabinet would 
make him bounce out of bed, seize his rifle, and take to the 
woods. In this pious work the hunter grew old. His son 
Tom, long since a man grown, had often wished "to fol- 
low to the field his warlike lord," "but his sire denied." 
Bill would allow no partnership, and resolved to finish the 
bloody game as he commenced it, single-handed. At last 
the ninety-ninth Indian skull was deposited with the oth- 
ers, and Bill, pleased at the thought of soon wiping out 
the "to be continued" he had chalked upon the last of 
his collection, prepared for his last sortie, quite willing, 
if it proved successful, for his own bones to be "laid on 
the shelf!" It might have been the agitation caused by 
this thought of a speedy fulfillment of his vow that made 
old Bill suddenly ill, and then he knew his time had come. 
Calling his son Tom to his bedside, he told him he was 
dying, and that he had a legacy to leave him. " That 
row of Injun skulls, Tom ! There's ninety-nine on 'em, 
and I swore to make 'em a hundred, but, the Lord won't 
let me, Tom, but wants you to finish the job ! I charge 
you to do it, Tom, or your father's ghost, and your mur- 
dered grandfather's too, will come and haunt you !" With 



92 GUIDE-BOOK OF THE 

this exhortation, the old hunter, with his eyes fixed on his 
trophies, gave up the ghost. 

Now whether old Bill had drove off' the Indians, or 
made them too cautious, or Tom was unskillful, does not 
appear, but the son did not prove equal to the task sol- 
emnly imposed upon him. In vain did Tom scour the 
woods, and try his best to catch the "last of the Mohi- 
cans." Years rolled past, and the niche on the shelves 
still remained vacant. The effect of his failures were dis- 
astrous upon Tom. He lost all confidence in his abilities, 
and sank into fatalism. " It w&sjest his luck !" With a 
son's pride, he would survey his hereditary skulls, and sigh 
for the glory of adding to them the last skull, at that time 
so provokingly safe upon its proprietor's shoulders ! From 
these interviews between the " quick and the dead" he 
would retire, downcast and despairing, and finally sought 
relief for his troubled conscience in the "last infirmity of 
noble minds" — the bottle ! " How could he get the hund- 
redth head, when there were no Injuns to grow 'em ?" 
And then Tom drank a bumper to the rest of the soul of 
his grandsire, whom he thought ought to be content with 
the not very "vulgar fraction" of ninety-nine Indian lives. 
Amid these potations, however, would appear the figure 
of his father wrapped in bear-skin — " his habit as he lived" 
— who, pointing to the incomplete roAV of heads, would 
shake his fist at Tom ; and then the skulls would grin, 
and skeleton thumbs would appear at their snubby skele- 
ton noses, and skeleton fingers would wag their rattling 
joints at him ; and then his father's ghost would chant 
forth old hundred, and Tom would rush out, staggering, 
with his rifle, to return empty-handed, as usual. In this 
way Tom has lived to be an old man, his energies wasted 
and his health impaired by the heavy thought of the non- 
execution of his father's dying request. Like Hamlet, he 
is the victim of a false position — unequal, though inclined 
to accomplish the mission imposed upon him. With tho 



NEW YORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 93 

"sweet prince," he might rail against the "cursed spite" 

of being born to reduce the dislocated joints of his sire's 

soul, and paraphrase his invective thus : 

" Injuns are out of date ! Oh, cursed blunder, 
That I was born to make these skulls a hunder!" 

Hankin's (from New York 143 miles, from Dunkirk 317 
miles), seven miles beyond Calicoon, where we next stop, 




is another secluded station, standing in a level plain mid- 
way across a bend in the Delaware. The business done 
here, though, will undoubtedly increase. Half a mile this 
side of Hankin's the road runs along the base of a mountain, 
whose steep sides are swept entirely bare of trees, present- 
ing nothing but a mass of stumps and rocks, where the rat- 
tle-snake is found in myriads. This removal of the forest 
was the few minutes' work of a hurricane twenty years 
ago ; and it is a pity that the same shaving process has 
not been extended to more of these bold peaks, for it is re- 
freshing to turn from the eternal green mounds skirting 
our rivers to such a bluff, bald veteran as this fellow, that 
flings his rocky outlines athwart the sky as though proud 
of his distinction above the common herd. 

We rejoin the Delaware at another of its numerous raft- 
ing stations. These signs of the lumber business are an 



94 



GUIDE-BOOK OF THE 



indispensable feature in the Delaware landscape. Even 
when it is not the season for rafting, you will see these 
light, broad craft moored along the banks, or, like huge 
crocodiles, sprawled upon the beach. Those of dressed 





timber are neatly put together, and are of various sizes, 
some long enough to stretch across the river at some pla- 
ces. The logs of hemlock that form the other rafts are 
slid down from the steep sides of the hills, that show nar- 
row lanes, along which, and at the bottom on the water- 
side, you may see the barkless timber glistening in the 
sun — another peculiar feature in the landscape of this 
river. When the formation of the ground does not per- 
mit this expeditious mode of sending down the logs, the 
patient ox team is seen on the shore, dragging them to 
where the raftsmen can put them together. It is a pretty 
scene when such a group is seen hard at work, the sturdy 
lumbermen half immersed in the stream, or mounted on 
the timber in various attitudes of collecting or steering 
them. No picture of this river can be a portrait without 
these characteristics. 

Passing along the winding river, the next object of in- 



NEW YORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 95 

terest is a slight thread of a cascade, that tumbles over a 
precipitous mountain 500 feet in height, coming down to 
the very edge of the road. It is seven miles beyond Han- 
kin's ; but you need not look out for it unless the clouds 
have supplied it with water, for in dry weather there is 
nothing of the kind visible at all. During a wet day in 
winter it spouts in admirable profusion, for then the dense 
foliage screen of summer no longer hides its successive 
leaps from cliff' to cliff. We have now passed from Sul- 
livan county into Delaware, one far superior in every re- 
spect. The portion of the road traversed since leaving 
Lackawaxen is of an almost level grade, and presenting 
but few marks of heavy work in its construction. Keep- 
ing generally near the edge of the river bed, but little ele- 
vated above it, it occasionally presents a rock-cutting on 
one side and a sustaining wall on the other ; but these, 
after having seen the great three-mile cut near Shohola, 
excite no interest. 

Equinunk (from New York 153| miles, from Dunkirk SOGJj- 
miles) we next reach, 10 miles beyond Hankins's, another 
young but growing station, the product of the road, now 
called Lordville.' It contains the company's offices and 




a neat hotel, that will do much to hasten the growth of 
a place promising to become an important depot, for there 



96 



GUIDE-BOOK OF THE 



is a vast region, both on the Pennsylvania and New York 
sides of the river, that must become tributary to it. It 
takes its name from the village of Equinunk, in Pennsyl- 
vania, seen on the river side, glimmering at the foot of 
that conical mountain, one mile to the southward. The 
traveler will be struck with the beauty of that village, as 
we approach it by the curved embankment on our side of 




the river. Equinunk village is placed in the region of 
tanneries, and possesses several that support its popula- 
tion. Until the erection of the hotel at the station, visit- 
ors had to seek accommodation in the village. A bridge 
over the Delaware at this point, it is thought, would act 
beneficially upon the business of the station. If the trav- 
eler first sees Equinunk village at sunset, he will find it 
one of the prettiest views on the Delaware. The neat 
dwellings and mills are brilliantly relieved against the 
valley, shaded by the noble mountain swelling above the 
village on the right, while a bold precipice of gray rocks 
reflect a broad blaze of light on the left. These spark- 
ling objects, together with the ferryman slowly pulling 
over the stream, are vividly repeated in the Delaware, 
here of great depth and transparency. 

Stockport (from New York 159 A miles, from Dunkirk 
300£ miles) is our next stopping-place, four miles further, 



MJU YORK AND ERIE RA1E-ROAD. 97 

and also takes its name from a busy little community on 
the Quaker side of the river. The business of this station 
is on the same scale and of the same character with that 
of Equinunk. The village opposite was named after a 




town in England, and has a large grist and saw-mill, the 

property of Mr. , whose grandfather settled this 

place. The immense piles of sawn timber and logs col- 
lected here attest its importance as a lumber depot ; and, 
like Equinunk, it is placed in a very lovely bend of the 
river. Stockport is the last place of importance we shall 
see on the Delaware proper, for we now approach the 
point when the stream we have so long followed loses its 
one and indivisible name, and divides into two branches. 
It is evidently shrinking in size, though occasionally ex- 
panding to great but shallow width ; the islands of soft 
soil, covered with bushes, which we first met near Equi- 
nunk, are now imposing tracts of pasture, with large pic- 
turesque trees with "exposed roots, entangled with mossy 
wreck, making it look more like the lovely Susquehanna 
than the monotonous and shore-washed Delaware. The 
traveler should keep on the left side of the cars if he wish- 
es to enjoy the beautiful view where the two branches 
unite to form this river. The exact point of confluence 
is not visible, but the view near it is very interesting 
Three miles beyond Stockport this meeting of the waters 
takes place. Before you. on the left, comes their united 

5 



98 



GUIDE-BOOK OF THE 



current, flowing through a wide flat flanked by gravelly 
points, clumped with noble trees. A range of mountains 
is seen on either side, but the peculiar feature in the view 
is the conical peak of the mountain filling up its center, 




with its base mapped off into meadows, and its upper half 
an unbroken forest. This picture should be first seen at 
sunset, when the purple mass of the mountains is reflected 
in the river, save where its shallow bed breaks it into a 
bright ripple, across which you may often see the dark- 
ened figures of damsels wading. That is a custom much 
honored in this region when the Delaware is low ; and it 
is a piquant sight to witness their dainty style of fording, 
indulging in many a "graceful bend" as their tender soles 
come in contact with envious gravel ; or, suddenly plump- 
ing into unexpected depths, they regulate with modest in- 
genuity the height of their garments above the enamored 
tide ' , From this point 

we leave the 
river suddenly, 
passing through 
a fine plain of 
great fertility ; 
we then cross 
the east branch 
of the Delaware by a long wooden bridge, and find our- 




NEW YORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD, 



99 



selves in that most beautiful of all villages along the 
road, 

Chehocton (from New York 164 miles, from Dunkirk 
296 miles). Thanks to the resolute taste of those who 





retain the expressive and musical Indian name of this 
romantic spot !* The name of Hancock is given to the 
township, and some persons will apply it to Chehocton ; 
which, however, is undergoing corruptions enough, such 
as Shehocking, and, shocking to say, Shocking itself. 
Chehocton means the " union of streams," and is well ap- 
plied to the meeting of the east and west branches of the 
Delaware, whose Indian names are Popacton and Coqua- 
go. These streams both rise in the northeast, and run 
southwest, almost parallel, for nearly 70 miles. At that 
point the largest or west branch (Coquago) is suddenly 
turned from its course by the ridge separating this valley 
from that of the Susquehanna, and runs southeast about 
13 miles to Chehocton. The Popacton, or east branch, 
leads a much shorter but more consistent career, keep- 
ing due on in the direction (southwest) to meet its ally. 
These two streams, rushing toward each other, are about 
to unite at Chehocton, when, in the felicitous words of 
Mr. Willis, "lo! a mountain puts down its immovable 
foot, and forbids the union !" Chehocton stands upon the 



* These thanks are now, alas ! undeserved, the village being decidedly 
dubbed Hancock since this book was written. 



1 00 



GUIDE-BOOK OF THE 



narrow neck of land, only half a mile wide, separating 
the streams, that again turn southward, and finally meet 
two miles helow, at the southern point of the conical 
mountain we saw there, and whose northern spur is thrust 
forward to "forhid the union." Chehocton extends from 
this point eastwardly to the hridge over the Popacton ; 
and a view of it from any of the adjacent heights will 
convince any one that a more beautifully situated village 
is to be found in no country. The view we give is from 
the west, showing how snugly the village is lapped among 




the mountains, beneath the farthest of 
which is seen the approach by rail-way from the east by 
the bridge over the Popacton. The view from the north, 
looking down the Delaware, is the most extensive, how- 
ever, and is unequaled along the river. 

Chehocton is the most important station reached since 
leaving Delaware, and its growth is amazing. Before 
the road was extended here it was a dull post-town, and, 
though on the main road from Delhi to the Pennsylvania 
mines, presented nothing of the activity and increase now 
visible in every part of its romantic locality. Two large 
hotels and several extensive stores now ornament its street, 
which, with the spacious buildings of the station, give it 
an air of importance and dignity. Private dwellings, in- 
closed with gardens, embellish this thoroughfare, while 



\i:\\ YORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. L01 

the stores look neat, but rather grand, from behind their 
Corinthian piazzas, particularly when the eye turns from 
these classic temples to the humble house of God conspic- 
uously placed among them, and which should at least be 
equal to the private houses in any village. Some shrub- 
bery, also, would make it really the ornament to the vil 
lage, which a distant view of its modest little spire sug- 
gests it must be. Chehocton is destined to be an im- 
portant place. With a rich back country, its business has 
been much increased by new facilities for bringing here 
the tributary produce and trade that once diverged to 
more accessible points, like Deposit. This has been ef- 
fected by a new plank road, extending in the interior to 
Walton, in Delaware county. Besides these advantages, 
its natural attractions, pure air, and romantic scenery 
must soon cause the gentle heights above the village to 
be covered with country seats. In the mean time, let the 
tourist, artist, and sportsman visit it, and they will find 
its attractions doubly pleasant while enjoying the excel- 
lent accommodations of the hotel kept by Mr. Faulkner. 
There is a saline spring on the Popacton, which a medical 
gentleman assures us has valuable medicinal qualities. 
The population of Chehocton is about 800. It is remark- 
able, on looking over a gazetteer of but five years back, to 
see how briefly are noticed, or, rather, not noticed at all, 
many of the now thriving places along this rail-road. 
Chehocton is one of these villages that have outgrown 
such recent records, and had important confessions to 
make to the census-takers of 1850. We leave this beau- 
tiful village by a deep cut through the sloping ridge of 
the mountain that "forbids the union" of the Delaware's 
branches, and in a few minutes we come in view of the 
Coquago, or west fork, which, for three miles, we follow 
close along its bank, and find it, for that distance, beauti- 
ful enough, but certainly not deserving the flattering title 
of " the Rhine of America," bestowed by Mr. Willis. We 



102 



GLIDE-BOOK OF THE 




think it far inferior, in every respect, to the 
east branch, and beyond the distance spe- 
cified it becomes positively stupid. 
Some miles further the road passes, 
by a very long, straight 
section, through a fertile 
plain ; and then, crossing 






NEW YORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 



103 



the Coquago by a covered wooden bridge, we roll along a 
curved embankment, that brings us to 

Deposit (from New York 177 miles, from Dunkirk 283 





miles). This is an 
important station : 
it is 13i miles from 
Chehocton — 1621 
from Piermont : it is 
the terminus of the 
long, gentle grade 
extending over the 
Delaivare Division 
from Delaware sta- 
tion, and the starting-point of a heavy grade that leads to 
the passage of the high mountain ridge between us and 
the Susquehanna. The station is at the west end of the 
village, that extends eastward, abreast of the embanked 
approach, as far as the Coquago, which we leave at the 
bridge just crossed, bidding a final adieu to this last scion 
of our old companion, the Delaware. The eastern portion 
of Deposit is the oldest, and, till lately, the busiest ; but 
now, in spite of its numerous old hotels, churches, mills, 
bridges, and dwellings, the bustling precincts of the sta- 



104 .1 IDE-BOOK - OF THE 




tion, its large, new, and improved hotel, and the rows of 
dashing, spruce stores, with Corinthian fronts, have alto- 
gether made the west end of Deposit, as of all other com- 
munities, the place of business. A plank road intersects 
the road at this place from Bainbridge, Chenango county. 
A glance at the freight-houses and offices of the company 
shows the amount of business done, and the numerous 
tracks and switches laid down in the broad area of the 
station indicate what is expected to be its increase. Un- 
like Chehocton, there is no beauty in its situation to ar- 
rest the traveler beyond one of the most abundant refresh- 
ment-tables a hungry tourist ever looked at. The im- 
portant character of the road over the mountain's bar- 
riers ahead of us makes this station particularly extensive 
in its force of trains and engines- An excellent new hotel 
is conveniently near the offices. Tanning is carried on 
here to an immense extent, a constant exchange being 
kept up with New York by returning the dressed hide for 
the raw material. The population of Deposit is about 
1200. 

In leaving Deposit, we pass out of Delaware county 
and enter that of Broome. The one we leave has about 
one fourth of its surface under cultivation, though the soil 
is generally good and the valleys veiy fertile. The intro- 



NEW YORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 105 

duction of the rail-road, however, will develop its agri- 
cultural resources and make them nourish, just as its lum- 
bering interests have done by reason of the easy outlet 
furnished by water communication. 

A run through a straight section of one mile due west 
from Deposit brings us to Oquago Creek. This is the 
last tributary of the Delaware we meet, whose waters we 
have now traced through a distance of 90 miles. Here 
ends the slight ascending grade extending from Delaware, 
and here, too, begins the grade of 58 feet per mile we must 
ascend to surmount the high mountain wall between us 
and the Susquehanna. The summit we are to cross is 
1366 feet above the level of the sea, and Deposit is only 
997 — a difference to be overcome in about eight miles. 
Passing the Oquago and two heavy rock-cuttings, remind- 
ing us of Shohola, we now begin our sidelong ascent of the 
mountain. Every rod of it attests the labor here encoun- 
tered, and the scenery suddenly assumes all the wild, 
blighted features to be found wherever these severe strug- 
gles with the ground occur. The rocky rubbish, the scat- 
tered, splintered, and burned trees in every possible posi- 




tion, show the first obstinate resistance made to the engi- 
neer, and a lonely shanty, half buried in the riven earth, 

5* 



106 



GUIDE-BOOK OF THF. 



only adds to the desolation of the battle-ground. The 
whole ascent is full of interest. Spur after spur of the 
mountain is doubled in our upward, spiral flight, and ev- 
ery curve in the road presents new views of savage land- 
scape. The wildest of these you may see four miles from 
Deposit, where we reach an extensive gravel bank. Ap- 





proaching this at sunset, the laborers look like ants busily at 
work, while the huge bonfires made of the tree-stumps, the 
hemlock groves, the yellow bank, and figures of the work- 
men, form a picture worthy of " Savage Rosa." 




NEW YORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 



107 



A little beyond this there are some superb views up and 
down the valley on our right, while we cut our way along 




1 w;$ 
the mountain side by 
means of prodigious 
embankments. With- 
in two miles of the 
top, the few houses 
occasionally seen on 
our right entirely dis- 
appear, and we enter 
a perfect solitude — a 
close forest of som- 
ber hemlock, whose 
blackened stems, and 
broken and scattered 
trunks are in fit keep- 
ing with its oppressive gloom and silence (see cut at head 
of next page). Glad to escape from this dismal avenue 
into a sunny clearing, we soon enter a straight cut of a 
mile running west, and there, " darkly painted on the crim- 
son sky," stands the enormous portal through the mount- 
ain top that fitly gives its name to the station of 

Summit (from New York 184£ miles, from Dunkirk 275| 
miles). In approaching this prodigious pass, the traveler 




1U8 



1 ,1 [DE-BOOK OF THE 




should bribe the engineer for the privilege of one of his 
w indows, and see it as we describe it at sunset. From 
the ordinary seat of a car you can see nothing of its irreg- 
ular profile, as it looms up before a black mass of rocky 
outline, having no foliage of any sort to soften its severe 
features, and only crested with half a dozen branchless 




NEW YORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 109 

hemlocks, some 80 feet in height, bristling on the right 
edge of the gap, serving us to judge of the height of the 
cut, which, from its top to the track, is 200 feet. The 
left side is a sheer precipice nearly, but the profile of the 
right hank is finely broken up, showing first a mass of 
slate rock 60 feet high, and then, sloping upward with 
loose, crumbling stone, it terminates in a crest of splin- 
tered rock, tipped with the blighted hemlocks. One of 
these trees reclines over the ledge in a very curious and 
imminent way, as though it would every moment dart 
downward. Between you and this pass is a table-land 
on each side of the track, covered with shanties and half 
a dozen wretched houses, of the tenants of which you are 
not long kept in doubt by the rich brogue issuing from 
them. A simple platform constitutes the station here — 
quite sufficient for its wants, as one may judge on looking 
over the wild and unimproved settlement adjoining. It 
is well worth while for the traveler to ascend the right 
cliff of the " cut." The view westward from that point 
is extraordinary, and in winter presents the very picture 
of extreme desolation, when the shanty roofs are but just 







above the snow, and the scorched and charred hemlocks 
and black rock of the pass look doubly black, looming out 



110 GUIDE-BOOK OF THE 

from the mantle that whitens all things else. Such a 
mass of riven rock, and of burned, fallen timber, never were 
huddled together as you see here on this pinnacle, swept 
clean by the tempests. The last desperate stand against 
the engineer was made here ; and the charred fragments 
of bulky trees look as though vanquished Nature had here 
sought her funeral pyre ! 

There is a large water-tank at the mouth of the cut, 
and a "turn-out" with engine-house, in case an engine 
may be required at this point. The accumulation of snow 
in the jaws of the cut often arrests the progress of the 
train, and then extra locomotives are ordered up from De- 
posite or from Susquehanna, on the other side of the sum- 
mit. It puzzles one to know what supports the tenants 
of those shanties of a kennel's size and a pig-sty's cleanli- 
ness ; but they are occupied by workmen engaged along 
the road in this region, who found convenient these huts, 
established at the "summit" during the long siege of its 
rocky barrier. Oh, Ireland ! if your sons would only ap- 
ply a little of their irresistible "pioneer muscle, that has 
so universally cleared the earth of its obstacles to civiliza- 
tion, to the task of beautifying the soil thus prepared, 
what a garden this western world would be. But no ! 
though this little bit of level soil under the shadow of the 
summit is not ungrateful, the denizens of those styes scorn 
the "foreign aid of ornament" or tidiness ; and so that 
puddle is found to be convenient near the door, and that 
barrel makes a good chimney, and flowers don't support 
life, and so the pigs walk in and out as they please. 

The cut through the summit winds along half a mile, 
though it does not retain its rocky character far beyond 
the eastern entrance. It is not delved through a contin- 
uous or compact mass of rock, but in many parts the sides 
are of a soft, crumbling texture, which, by the constant 
dripping from the solid ledges, are turned into a sort of paste 
on each side of the road. The geological student will find 



NEW YORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 



l I : 




this a great field of study. These drippings during win- 
ter form enormous icicles, hanging like pointed gray-beards 
from the rugged cheek of the pass, and falling in frag- 
ments below by the concussion of a passing train. We 
have stood in that pass during the hottest days of the 
year, and found the air cool ; and in the winter old Bo- 
reas howls along its corridor as though it were a musical 
hall expressly made for the exercise of his lungs. The 
cost of this rock-cut through Summit was over $200,000. 
Leaving this magnificent monument of the enterprise 
of the company and the skill of the engineer, we now de- 
scend the mountain by a grade of 60 feet, and nearly of 
the same length with the eastern ascent. We are enter- 
ing the picturesque portion of the road, or what is called 
by the profession the ' Susquehanna Division." Who that 
was one of the party will ever forget the first memorable 
crossing of the mountain, in December, 1848, when the 
road was formally opened from Delaware as far as Bing- 
hamton ; and when the elements conspired, but in vain, 
to keep back the festival trains, that cut their way through 



L12 



GUIDE-UOOK or THE 



the snow. The crossing of the Alps by Napoleon's le- 
gions was not more glorious or wonderful ; and the ac- 
clamation of the people that waited our arrival along the 
track, in the midst of the most violent of snow-storms, 
proved how welcome were these conquerors of space, and 
harbingers of trade, intercourse, and civilization. 

Four miles of the descent from Summit are as stupid 
as can possibly be. The view is shut in by the wood on 
each side, and not even a shanty peeps out from its dull 
covert. But this same section acts as a whet to our keen 
curiosity for what is beyond ; and it is first gratified by 
our arrival at the famous 

Cascade Bridge (from New York 188^ miles, from 
Dunkirk 27 \\ miles). This stupendous wooden structure 
consists of a single arch, 250 feel in width, thrown over a 
ravine 184 feet in 
depth. The span of 
the arch has a rise 
of 50 feet, and we 
believe far surpass- 
es in width any oth- 
er in the world con- 
structed of timber. 
This ravine is very 
narrow, and is ap- 
proached and cross- 
ed so rapidly that a 
person in the cars 
can form no idea of the bridge itself, though we can see 
the gulf, and judge of its depth by a glance at the tops 
of the pines, descending, row by row, to the rocky, thread- 
like stream at the bottom of its gloomy jaws. To judge 
of the bridge and the gulf properly, it must be explored 
leisurely, and a day can easily be consumed in examining 
both from their various points of view. Descending the 
east side by a path supplied with a secure balustrade in 




NEW YORK AND ERIE BAIL-ROAD 



1 1:; 



the shape of stout saplings, we come to the bottom of the 
gulf, and see this wonderful structure, as it were, suspend- 
ed in the air above us, so airily, with all its strength, 
seems its graceful arch to span the chasm. The train 
crossing it now looks like a toy-cart, and the laborers at 
work on the west side are dwindled to mere atoms. Fol- 
lowing up the stream, we stand immediately under its 

arch, and can well see the 
huge ribs, joints, and sin- 
ews that form its powerful 
anatomy. This is the hest 
point of view whence to 
comprehend the strength 
and beauty of the work. 
Instead of resting upon 
frail piers erected by the 
hand of man, each leg of 
the arch is supported on 
and in deep shelves hewn 
into the solid rock, that ris- 
es wall-like on both sides 
of the chasm ; and while 
these eternal foundations stand, so will the bridge. Its 
arch is made of eight ribs of white oak, two feet square 
in the center, and two feet by four at the abutments. 
These are interlaced with wood and iron braces in a way 
to show how well strength is combined with lightness in 
its airy structure. The width of the bridge is 24 feet, 
with a light railing ; its surface is protected by a gravel 
cement. Such is the Cascade Bridge, whose simple sym- 
metrical form would perhaps conceal the effect of its vast- 
ness, were it not set in such a stupendous chasm. Of this 
chasm we must say a word, for the preparation of the 
gulf for the erection of the bridge appears nearly as won- 
derful as the structure itself. We have said that the walls 
of the ravine are of solid rock. The west side rises almost 




114 



GUIDE-BOOK OF THE 



a sheer precipice, while the east, immediately under the 

bridge, is more sloping. Both 

sides were originally covered 

with a dense grove of hemlock, 

such as you see just above the 

bridge. To remove this was a 

Herculean task, as was also the 

excavation of the rock for the 

support of the arch. Here, then, 

we see the bare, steep rock of the 

west side completely shorn of 

vegetation, with nothing but 

tree-stumps, standing out like 

bosses from its breast-plate of stone. On the west side a 

vast pile of broken rock slopes down to the stream, choked 

up with stony rubbish, and huge trees hurled there from 

the heights above. Some old tressels still protrude from 

this debris, and the whole appearance of the "wreck 

of matter" attests the violent birth whence sprung the 

fair and secure fabric overhead. The best general view 

of the bridge and chasm is the one we present from the 





NEW YORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 115 

quarry below, on the west side, whence most of the stone 
for the Starrucca Viaduct was procured. The view of the 
bridge from the bed of the creek is obscured by the thick 
foliage, but still the glimpses it affords, though but par- 
tial, are very striking. 

But you will ask, Why Cascade Bridge ? In rainy 
weather you will ask, Where is the cascade ? for the di- 
minished volume of the fall that confers its title to the 
bridge can not make itself heard, loud as it is, through the 
dense thicket of hemlock that muffles its "quiet tune," 
save when the skies give it a full, whole choral band. 
The cascade is a few yards above the bridge, but entirely 
concealed, unless you scramble down a succession of rocky 
ledges, and get a close look at one of the most beautiful 
water-falls imaginable, about 60 feet high when the cur- 
rent is full, but merely streaking with white rills the green 
rocks when the clouds refuse the proper supplies. Anoth- 
er cascade, of thread-like proportions, takes the ravine at 
one single leap from a point between the great fall and 
the bridge ; but they are both invisible, except to tourists 
willing to risk their necks for a glimpse at their coy beau- 
ties. It is to be hoped the wood concealing them may 
soon be thinned out, and the picturesque attractions of the 
spot be allowed a fair chance with the grand and won- 
derful. A light, secure stairway, leading down the ledges 
of rock near the great cascade, would be also a valuable 
improvement. At present there are obstacles to a general 
thronging of visitors, owing to the untamed wildness of 
the chasm and the want of suitable accommodations in 
the neighborhood. Were the improvements suggested car- 
ried out, and a neat, comfortable public house established 
in the grove below the bridge, the Cascade Bridge would 
be a favorite resort to tourists and pleasure parties during 
summer. 

Some persons think the Cascade Ravine might have 
been crossed in a less expensive and more enduring way 



i 16 



liUIDE-HOOK OF THE 




by filling it in. A 
glance at the chasm 
should surely con- 
vince them of their 
mistake. Imagine 
the lump of mother 
earth necessary to 
fill up that deep 
wrinkle in her fair 
cheek ! Reflect on 
the requisite width 
of such a mound, 
and what a culvert 
— nay, a bridge — 
would need to per- 
forate it as a vent to the stream when swollen to a torrent 
of resistless volume ! Instead, then, of a clumsy embank- 
ment, with a culvert, perhaps, unsuited to the wants of 
the creek, here we have a strong and enduring bridge — a 
monument of skill — an arch of triumph — a wonder of the 
world — not marring, hut heightening by contrast the ro- 
mantic beauties of the ravine. Well did General Scott 
exclaim, after watching a heavy train cross its untrem- 
bling fabric, " The man who could throw a cow-path over 
that gulf deserves a crown!" 

This bridge cost about $70,000, was a year and a half 
in building, and is the work of John Fowler. From the 
bridge, looking north, we catch the first glimpse of the 
Valley of the Susquehanna, which, a few yards further, 
bursts upon our view in all its unconcealed loveliness. 
Emerging from the close, tedious lane that has so long 
hemmed us in, we run along a straight terrace cut in the 
mountain side 200 ieet above the valley, and look down 
upon a landscape, the shortest glance at which will for- 
ever haunt the traveler with its vision of beauty. It 
seems as if this lovely river and vale had gathered their 



NEW YORK AND ERIK RAIL-ROAD. 119 

choicest charms into one gracious greeting, to cheer us 
after the passage of the wild and desolate mountain be- 
hind. We have attempted to convey an idea of the sweet 
features of this remarkable landscape, but what pencil or 
pen can portray the soul and essence of the beauty wrapped 
in their delicious hues — the pastoral repose brooding over 
those undulating hills and fair meadows, receding in the 
far, misty distance, when seen under an autumnal sky ? 
The swelling mass of the wooded mountain on the left, 
with its shadowy form reflected in that broad curve of the 
river, contrasts well with the expanse of fields and pas- 
tures gently swelling upward on the right ; and while the 
stream, momentarily vanishing, again lights up the dis- 
tant vale with two bright links of its current, the plain 
immediately below us shows a snug farm-house, with its 
barns, orchard, and garden, and bright, green meadows 
dotted with cattle, that gladden the heart with a sense of 
the perfect peace and prosperity assuredly dwelling there. 
There is no wildness, no sublimity in this landscape ; but 
there it lies, beneath that wall of hemlock over which we 
look, in all its quiet, gentle loveliness, sinking with an in- 
expressible charm into the heart of the traveler. The 
American landscape should be always seen in the autumn, 
to judge of the true extent of its magnificence ; and no- 
where does that glorious season light up the landscape 
more brilliantly than here " on Susquehanna side." Thus, 
fellow-traveler, we come to the scene where the graceful 
belt of light trees and natural shrubbery skirting each edge 
of the stream below, and occasionally throwing out fantas- 
tic semicircular clumps of willows into the smooth mead- 
ows, divide with their brilliant colors the warm green of 
the pastures from the cool blue current winding among 
them — where (it being a grazing region) these exquisite 
hues are not marred by stubble-fields, but retain their un- 
earthy, delicate verdure through all seasons — where the 
hemlock groves scattered along the landscape relieve the 



120 GUIDE-BOOK OF T11L 

woods of their otherwise excessive brilliancy — where the 
amber light of autumn suffuses the whole valley, to whose 
"winding" river you may apply those happy lines of Rog- 
ers : 

" Like a silver zone 
Thrown about carelessly, it shines afar, 
Catching the eye in many a broken link, 
In many a turn and traverse as it glides.' 

Fortunately, the length of the high embanked terrace 
whence we see this famous landscape, and the check put 
upon our steed by the considerate engineer, allow us full 
time to observe all its beauties, over which we would fain 
linger. The inexorable hemlock, however, at last shuts 
out the vision, and we lose sight of the river altogether 
while cutting through the base of the mountain we have 
been skirting. Dreary, deep sand-banks and shattered 
timber are all we see in this winding cut ; but its termi- 
nation brings us before another superb prospect, of a char- 
acter different from the enchanting scene just left. Here 
we have the first view of the 

Starrucca Viaduct (from New York 190 miles, from 
Dunkirk 270 miles), which, even at this distance (one 
mile), when sunset lights up its arches, sheds a peculiar 




dignity and splendor over the landscape. The valley im- 
mediately below up shows its recent redemption by its 



NEW YOKK. AND EUIK KAlL-llOAD. 



121 



black stumps and uncultivated knolls ; but beyond these 
are meadows and groves betokening an old settlement, to- 
gether with the outline of a village placed at the base of 
the noble hills that inclose this grand prospect on every 
side. A run of two miles from the Cascade Bridge brings 
us to the viaduct, that takes its name from the Starrucca 
Creek, that here, issuing from a vale of the same title, 
runs into the Susquehanna. This magnificent structure 
is the greatest work of art along the rail-road, and ranks 
among the first works of its kind in this country. It is 
1200 feet long, 110 feet high, and has 18 arches with 




spans of 50 feet. Its body is 24 feet in width, but the top 
is 30 feet, affording space enough for a double track. Its 
appearance would be much improved by a parapet ; but 
this deficiency is somewhat remedied by an iron railing 
on each side. Like the Cascade Bridge, the viaduct can 
not be seen to advantage unless you descend, and view it 
from various points below. The best of these is at the 
northeast angle, whence the beautifully-curved arches, and 



122 



GUICE-BOOK OF THE 



light, though substantial piers, recede from the eye in ex- 
quisite symmetry. On the west side numerous shanties 
and otlicr common-place buildings obstruct the view very 
much; but from the opposite side of the Susquehanna an 
unobstructed view can be had of i!s whole length, as, like 
a huge centipede, it puts down its many feet across the 




Starrucca Vale. The creek passes under one arch near 
its southern end, and is famous for the excellent trout in 
its waters higher up. Below the bridge it serves several 
mills, supporting the small community here, and crosses 
the valley to the river completely hidden in a dense grove 
of elm, birch, and willows. The stone of which the via- 
duct is built was brought partly from above on the creek, 
and partly from the quarry we saw at the Cascade Bridge, 
and has proved a good material. The whole work was 
intrusted to Mr. Kirkwood, the late efficient superintend- 
ent of the road, who executed his great trust within a 
twelve month from its commencement. The entire cost 
of the structure was $320,000. The viaduct, like the 



NEW YORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 



123 



Cascade Bridge, was deemed unnecessary by the advocates 
of the jilling-i?i process ; but, though very expensive, it. is 
undoubtedly the cheapest and most durable mode of car- 
rying the road over this ravine ; and who can regret the 
choice that adds such a noble architectural feature to the 
attractions of nature and art in this particular region, 
where haply cluster the great monuments of the enter- 
prise and liberality of the company. 

The view from the viaduct is very imposing, for the 
mountains rise around us like a circle of giants, and the 
valley has recovered the smile of cultivation with which 
it first welcomed us. Looking south, we see above the 
richest of groves the village of Lanesborough, with its tres- 
sle bridge, over which we pass in a few minutes, our eleva- 
tion enabling us to 
.___ -, - _ look down the chim- 
neys of that com- 
munity. This tres- 
sle bridge is 450 
feet long, and 70 
feet above the C an- 
ew act a Creek, that 
here issues from a 
narrow glen, and is 
also a tributary to 
the Susquehanna. In any other part of the road this beau- 
tiful fabric would excite a sensation ; but near the two 
structures just passed, its interest lies chiefly in the effect 
of carrying us over the " white, upturned gaze of wonder- 
ing" villagers, that rush to their doors and watch our lofty 
transit above their heads. At this point the Susquehanna, 
so long hidden, suddenly sweeps into view through mead- 
ows extending beyond the village, and touches close on 
our right, to remain our companion for many miles. Just 
before reaching the Starrucca Viaduct we again entered 
the Quaker state, into which commonwealth the Susque- 




124 



GUIDE-BOOK OF THE 



hana here drops a graceful loop, called the Great Bend. 
Lanesborough, therefore, is a village of Susquehanna coun- 
ty, in that state. It contains some 300 or 400 inhabitants, 
has several mills and tanneries, and two hotels. 

From Lanesborough we enter a long, straight rocky cut 
of a mile, quite close to the Susquehanna, that flows rap- 
idly and clearly 30 feet below us, though we have nearly 
finished the descent of the grade of 60 feet from Summit. 
Huge buttresses of gray rock divide us from the river, like 
those on the Shohola cut. Looking behind us now, we 
enjoy, by means of the new turn in our track, a magnifi- 
cent review of the natural and artificial glories just passed, 
affording us altogether the grandest prospect to be met 
with between the Hudson and the Lake. The river, the 
village, the bridge, and the viaduct stretch in an unob- 




structed line behind us ; but, to have this view in perfec- 
tion, the tourist must ascend the old road, extending, over 
the hill above us, from the village of Lanesborough to the 
station of Susquehanna. The difference between these 
two views may be judged from our illustrations, and the 



NEW YORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 127 

vast extent given to the prospect by ascending to the high 
er point of view was alone wanting to make it what it is, 
one of unsurpassed magnificence. It may be said to form 
an epitome of the glories, natural and artificial, of the New 
York and Erie Rail-road. From the foreground in the pic- 
ture, beneath us recede the river and the rail-road, both 
to vanish in the dense forest of hemlock, whose varied 
pointed summits give such a peculiar grandeur to the dis- 
tant horizon. The river, on the left, leaves us in two 
broad curves, one of which is rippled over by a dam, and 
the nearer one crossed by an old bridge, from which that 
yellow thread of the turnpike winds up and down the 
slopes of its left bank. On the right the road starts from 
the bridge over the toivn, whose neat church, and old red 
mills, and white houses peep out from willow groves and 
those old gray-stemmed sycamores, and makes a beautiful 
and unbroken curve of three miles, to vanish in the hem- 
locks, where the river disappears. The unobstructed view 
of this section of the road is very interesting ; and mid- 
way upon its thread-like track stands the great viaduct, 
through whose archies the sunlight falls aslant, and over 
whose stately form the mountains, as though determined 
to do justice to such a proud neighbor, gather their crests 
up into bold, precipitous peaks, quite unlike their adjacent 
round-head brethren. Between these two arcs of the 
road and river stretch the most beautiful meadows, crossed 
and dotted with every variety of clumps, groves, and dense 
avenues of trees, while the white walls of the village and 
scattered dwellings give an animated character to the 
scene, making its composition complete. This superb 
landscape should also be seen in autumn, when, though 
those bold hemlock hills in the distance and above the vi- 
aduct still retain their sober suit of dark green, the gen- 
tler summits are richly bronzed by the early frosts, and 
the motley grove skirting the Starrucca Creek spans the 
golden green expanse of meadow like a rainbow. 



1 28 



'.HOE-BOOK OF T1IL 



Nearly two miles from Lanesborough we arrive at the 
Susquehanna station (from New York 192^ miles, from 
Dunkirk 267-i miles), placed on a narrow strip of land be- 
tween the river and the hills, that now close up on either 
hand. Strictly the name of this locality is Harmony ; 
but what was once a mere collection of huts, with a little 
public house, is now an important depot or hospital for 
disabled engines and cars, and stables for those in daily 
use. The necessary buildings for such an establishment, 
where engines and cars are repaired, of course make this 
an important and bustling place, in addition to the less 
noisy business of a station. The engine-houses here are 
substantial tenements, and in the neat stables are accom- 




modations for 30 of these metal steeds. The number of 
hands employed is about 200 ; and their wants, and those 
of the engine drivers and firemen who end their day's work 
here, have caused the erection of spacious boarding-houses 
and a few tasty cottages along the hill overhanging the 
depot. The ground has been laid off into lots, churches 
have been built on the hill, and a thriving village has 
sprung up. 

Travelers visiting the Cascade Bridge and Starrucca Via- 
duct will leave the cars here, and go back to Lanesborough, 
one mile, by carriage. 

We are now at the bottom of the descent from Summit, 



NEW VOEK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 



129 



and enter upon the lightest grade of the road, extending 
as far as Hornellsville. The ascent on this section, going 
west, is nowhere over Jive feet to the mile. We also, at 
this point, bid adieu to the grand and romantic scenery of 
the road, though we shall find before us much that is pic- 
turesque. This is the character of the Susquehanna where 
we cross its rapid current, half a mile beyond the station, 
by a wooden covered bridge 800 feet long, with one span 
of 186, and four others of 150 feet. There are actually 
two bridges, joined by a wooded island in the stream, whose 




wild trees and the high hills around make the spot very 
picturesque. The country around this point has been fa- 
mous as a hunting field, and many are the stories told by 
the old Nimrod that "keeps" the bridge of not only hunt- 
ing deer and game, but also of the sterner sport of hunting 
bears and panthers, that not long since abounded in the 
adjacent forest. It is said deer are often seen swimming 
the Susquehanna near the bridge. 

Our course now lies on the right bank of the river, that 
leads us a winding course among the hills, though now 
and then we bolt from its company. We are very little 
above its surface, and the work for five miles is very light. 
At that point, however, we pass through several rock-cut- 
6* 



130 GUIDE-EOOK OF THE 

tings, where the views are truly beautiful. The last of 




these " cuts" shows a steep face of rock about 74 feet in 
height, the last resistance of the soil we encounter for very 



NEW YORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 



131 



many miles. Leaving the river here, we rush across a 
fertile plain, again to touch its banks at a point affording 
one of its choicest landscapes, whence, looking southwest, 
we have one of the finest views the Susquehanna affords 



J/—? 




In its distance rises a high conical mountain, at the base 
of which lies the village of Great Bend, in Pennsylvania. 
In a few minutes we stop at the station bearing the same 
name. 

Great Bend (from New York 20(H miles, from Dun- 




132 



UUIDE-BOOK OF THE 



kirk 250 miles), eight miles from Susquehanna. A covered 
bridge crosses the Susquehanna to the village, bearing the 
same name, on the south bank, which presents a very 
pleasant view from the station. 




This station derives its chief importance from the Dela- 
ware, Lackawanna, and Western Rail-road, which connects 
with the Erie Road here, and, crossing the Susquehanna by 
another covered bridge, follows a mountain stream into the 
ravine, which is visible to the southward, and penetrating 
the Lackawanna coal region, and passing through Scranton, 
within view of the beautiful and far-famed Valley of Wyoming, 
crosses the wildest and most picturesque region of Pennsyl- 
vania, and strikes the Delaware River five miles below the 
Water Gap, which is a point of celebrated beauty. Crossing 
the Delaware here, and now taking the name of the Warren 
Rail-road, it continues a few miles to New Hampton, where 
it connects with the New Jersey Central Road. Passengers 
for Montrose and Tunkhannock take this road. 

Scranton, the principal station on it, is a new place, on 
the Lackawanna, now numbering several thousand inhabit- 
ants on ground which, in 1845, was almost unknown to 
civilization. It has iron and coal mines opening side by 
side in the mountain, and its immense rolling-mills and 
other works make it a place of great interest to the visitor. 

The person who is a stranger to a coal country will be 
gratified bv a visit to the Lackawanna region. Scranton 



NEW YORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 133 

lies on the table of the valley, the mills and furnaces being 
in the bed of Roaring Brook, which comes down from the 
mountains to join the Lackawanna. In the side of the ra- 
vine of this brook are the coal and iron openings, and the 
mines actually have their outlets in the very shadow of the 
furnaces. The Scranton Company was, until 1854, a joint- 
stock company, owned chiefly at the East. In that year it 
became a corporation, and it has been eminently successful 
in its operations. The entire Lackawanna Valley is interest- 
ing to the stranger, and, should he desire to do so, he can go 
down to Scranton by the D. L. and W. Road, and thence 
drive over to Carbondale and Honesdale, and strike the Erie 
track again at Narrowsburgh. The valley formerly had no 
outlet for its coal except the coal rail-road, which took cars 
by stationary engines up and down inclined planes from Wyo- 
ming Yalley to Hawley, on the Delaware and Hudson Canal. 
This rail-road, it is supposed, will supply both New York 
and the West with anthracite coal, and will aflbrd the most 
direct means of conveyance hitherto known for that import- 
ant commodity to the great metropolis. From Scranton a 
drive of twelve miles takes the traveler into the Wyoming Yal- 
ley at Pittston, where he may cross the Susquehanna, and 
drive by the Monument, and along this most holy ground in 
America, passing the Forty Fort burial-place and the scene 
of the massacre, and so to Wilkesbarre, seven miles below. 

This whole coal region is well worthy a visit, and the 
stranger will find at Scranton a hotel equal to his highest 
ideas of city accommodations. 

Leaving Great Bend, we run northward through a coun- 
try whose fields and numerous cross-roads show that we 
are entering upon a more cultivated region. At the end 
of four miles we leave Pennsylvania for the last time, 
and enter the empire state midway in Broome county, 
which we first approached at Deposit. This county was 
first settled in 1790, chiefly by persons from Massachu- 
setts, though a French colony had settled on the Che- 



134 GUIDE-BOOK OF THE 

nango in 1787. It was little known before the Revolu- 
tion, and until within a few years held a population of 
lumbermen. Since the introduction of roads and canals, 
it has advanced in agricultural importance, and in the 
richness and abundance of its products now vies with Or- 
ange. Though generally mountainous, there is hardly a 
hill not susceptible of cultivation to the very top. The 
same, however, may be said of the entire Valley of the 
Susquehanna in this region. Its sudden growth is pro- 
digious, for in the numerous large towns we shall soon ap- 
proach, many of the settlers are still living that first vis- 
ited them in canoes. As we advance along this fine val- 
ley, the evidences of a fertile soil and greater population 
become evident, though the scenery proportionally becomes 
monotonous, and the road, running through a level plain, 
presents nothing of interest in its construction. 

Kiiikwood (from New York 20C miles, from Dunkirk 
254 miles) is a small village, so called after a former su- 
perintendent of the road. In this neighborhood, on the 
north side of the road, stands an old, shabby wooden house, 
that may be some day looked upon with great reverence, 
propped up with tenderest care, and visited by troops of 
pilgrims to view its hallowed timbers. It is the house in 
which was born Joe Smith, the Mormon prophet. Yes, 
that shabby tenement was Joe's cradle, and may be some 
day the thronged Mecca to his disciples from the mighty 
West. The signs of increasing cultivation and prosperity 
in the farms we pass are gradually mingled with the un- 
mistakable evidences of a large town being near. We 
see successively wagon-loads of town goods, then elegant 
town vehicles containing town-dressed people, an<_ then 
elegant suburban residences, proofs of the wealth and 
taste of the community we approach, and that is 

Binghamton (from New York 21 G miles, from Dunkirk 
245 miles). This beautiful village, the largest and fair- 
est community on the main line of the road we have met 



NEW YORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 135 




-- .-- -• .--., ".:.-.- ~ 



since leaving New York city, is situated in a wide plain, 
and on an angle formed by the confluence of the Susque- 
hanna and the Chenango Rivers. It was named after its 
original settler, Mr. Bingham, an Englishman, who died 
in 1804, leaving two daughters, afterward married to Al- 
exander Baring and his brother Henry, the famous En- 
glish bankers of that name, one of whom, it is well known, 
was afterward created Lord Ashburton. Binghamton at 
once sprang into importance by its being so happily placed 
on two such streams, whose lumber and water-power forth- 
with formed the elements of its prosperity. Besides these 
mills, the Chenango Canal, extending along that river 95 
miles to Utica, proved the next auspicious source of im- 
provement for Binghamton. The flour trade by this ca- 
nal is extensive. That work, however, has somewhat 
languished under the superior advantages afforded by the 
Erie Rail-road, that has given the crowning impulse to 
the business of Binghamton, and thus we find it a busy 
town, containing some 12000 inhabitants. The station is 
built on an open area north of the town, and its offices, 
freight-houses, and perfect maze of "turn-outs," "switch- 
es," &c, covered with trains and freight-cars, prove it one 
of first importance. The village covers several hundred 
acres, and boasts many fine streets planted with trees, 



136 GUIDE-BOOK OF THE 

and ornamented with some half dozen churches, the coun- 
ty buildings, and several excellent hotels. The side-walks 
are made of plank, and prove both neat and convenient. 
The canal passing through the town gives, with its boats 
and bridges, a peculiar character to the streets. A long 
wooden bridge connects the main business part with the 
suburbs on the south side of the Susquehanna, as several 
others do with the west side of the Chenango, where the 
elegant private residences of the older and more opulent 
citizens are seen, with beautiful gardens and trees sloping 
down to the water's side. Standing on one of these bridges 
over the Chenango at sunset, and looking either north or 
south along these garden shores, the traveler will be struck 
with the beauty of the scene. "Washington Irving has pro- 
nounced them unsurpassed in any village he has ever vis- 
ited. On the southern side of the Susquehanna, and di- 
rectly opposite the junction of the Chenango, there is also, 
from the garden of Mr. Eldridge, an interesting view of 
the town ; and a ride down the main street, on the west 
bank of the Chenango, will also show the elegant taste of 
the citizens in architecture and ornamental grounds. The 
best general view of Binghamton and the valley is to be 
had from a hill south of the town, which we have selected 
as showing the course of the two rivers and the massing 
of tbe town most effectively. The drives in this direction 
afford an endless variety of extensive views of the valley 
Directly west of, and near the station, the road crosses the 
Chenango by a wooden bridge of great length and of va- 




NEW YORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD 



ried design. Either end of it is covered. 
era portion the Chenango Canal passes. 



139 

Under the east- 




Chenango, in Indian, is said by some to mean "Beauti- 
ful" or "Pleasant Waters," while others contend that it 
means "Swift River." Whichever be the true significa- 
tion, the word will be well applied, for a swifter or more 
beautiful river never ran toward the sea. 

With such a position, in such a fertile plain, and with 
such rapid means of connection with New York and all 
the minor points of trade surrounding it, what can pre- 
vent Binghamton from growing into an inland metropo- 
lis ? Looking back at its comparatively recent settlement, 
what a still greater change may be anticipated. Before 
the numerous roads were opened for its only business, lum- 
ber, its only market was Philadelphia. In 1810 there was 
but one mail per week from New York. With this antic- 
ipated growth of Binghamton, it has a community whose 
intelligence, enterprise, and refined taste will keep pace 
with its increasing wealth. There is no place where hos- 



14U GUIDE-BOOK OF THE 

pitality and social intercourse are conducted in a more lib- 
eral and refined manner. It will never be forgotten with 
what spirit its citizens got up the celebration of the open- 
ing of the road to this place, on the 27th of December, 
1848, which, though the elements rather combined to 
make a late collation, yet proved at the same time the 
warmth of a reception which no frosts could chill or par- 
alyze. 

The Syracuse and Binghamton Rail-road diverges here, 
mid conveys travelers through the most pseudo-classical part 
of the state, passing through Marathon, Homer, Tully, and 
Apulia, to modern Syracuse. 

Good hotels may be found in Binghamton, and the place 
bids fair to be the most important in the southern tier of 
counties. It is now rivaled only by Elmira, and it is amus- 
ing to hear the citizens of the two places dispute when they 
meet. The difference in population is not 1000. 

The Albany and Susquehanna Road also diverges here, 
intended to convey passengers to Albany. Some distance 
up the Chenango a colony of French settled in 1790. 
Talleyrand visited it in 1795, and took his private secretary 
from that place. The colony was afterward broken up and 
scattered. 

Upon the site of Binghamton, a brigade of American 
troops, in 1779, under the command of General James 
Clinton, the father of De Witt Clinton, encamped for one 
or two nights, on their way to join the main body under 
Sullivan, then penetrating westward. The first white 
man who made a permanent settlement in what is claimed 
for the village vicinity was Captain Joseph Leonard, who 
was from Plymouth, Massachusetts. Soon after came 
Colonel William Rose, from Connecticut, and then Whit- 
neys, from Columbia county. At the time of their settle- 
ment (1787) their nearest white neighbors were at Tioga, 
a distance of 40 miles. — Vide Wilkinson's Annals of 
Binghamton. 1840 



NEW YORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 141 

In the same annals is mentioned how, in consequence 
of a freshet in 1794, a great scarcity was felt, during 
which a Major Stow shouldered a bushel of wheat, in 
which the whole neighborhood had a common share, and 
started for Wattle's Ferry to mill, a distance of more than 
40 miles, carrying his grist the whole distance on foot. 
On his return the neighbors held a sort of thanksgiving 
over their "short-cake" and a pound of tea he had pur- 
chased, and, as they had no hog's lard, they substituted 
bear's grease to make their cake tender. 

Beyond Binghamton the country continues of the same 
level, rich character, with but few glimpses of the river 
to relieve its monotony. The observant traveler will, on 
this section of the road, remark for the first time a double 
row of half-decayed posts along the left of the road, now 
buried in the soil, now rising above it ten feet, now hug- 
ging our track, now bolting off at a tangent across the 
valley, now dark and decayed, and now fresh and strong 
enough to bear bridges (evidently never used) twenty feet 
long ! This is a puzzling apparition to the stranger ; and 
if you read the early history of this rail-road, you will un- 
derstand how, to the eyes of a stockholder, each of these 
black posts is a dismal monument to the memory of mill- 
ions sunk in sinking their never-used timbers, and how 
those bridges are indeed veritable "bridges of sighs." 
When the New York and Erie Rail-road, under the stim- 
ulus of the state loan, was begun at the Dunkirk terminus, 
and was in progress throughout almost its entire length in 
1841, 90 miles of it, between Binghamton and Hornells- 
ville, were "piled" with these upright posts, on which the 
road was to rest, to be filled in underneath. To effect 
this, an ingenious machine was invented and put in oper- 
ation, to drive and saw off these iriles with dispatch ; and 
it is melancholy to turn to the "journals of the day," and 
see the enthusiastic records of the daily progress of this 
wonderful driver and cutter, as though every post driven 



142 



GUIDE-BOOK OF THE 



was an additional support on which was to rest the future 
fortunes of the villages along the route ! Ninety miles were 
thus posted up, when the treasury of the company became 
embarrassed, the work was stopped, and the road at the 
point of death, when it was resuscitated by calling in new 
nurses and physicians. "When the work was again start- 
ed, new and improved modes of engineering showed that 
it would be actually cheaper to throw aside the piled route 
as useless, and run a new line. This was done, and the 
track was laid as it now is, leaving the said outposts to 
remain unused, a homely imitation of a Roman viaduct, 
stretching mournfully across a wide campagua ! 

Keeping along the Susquehanna Valley, that remains 
the same in rich cultivation as we pass westward, our 
next stopping-place is 

Union (from New York 223 miles, from Dunkirk 237 
miles), nine miles beyond Binghamton. The station stands 
half a mile from the village that names it, a good view of 
which, and the singular round hill adjacent, may be had 




from the station. Union is a thriving little village of 
about 1000 inhabitants, standing in the midst of a broad 
plain as Binghamton does, though half a mile distant from 
the Susquehanna. The high round hill spoken of slopes 
up from the main street, and affords a fine pasture to its 
very top, excepting on its southern face, which is very pre- 



NEW YORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 



143 



cipitous, and covered with pine and hemlock. From its 
summit there are superb views up and down the valley 
for many miles, showing the windings of the river, while 
immediately below us its current is broken up with small 
islands, fringed with trees, and molded in every variety 
of fantastic shape. These islands are rich pasturages, 
and have on them herds of cattle and flocks of geese, that 
add much to the quiet rural beauty of the river. Union 
was settled in 1789 by one Judge Mersereau, of Tioga 
county. He served with distinction under Washington, 
who intrusted to his keeping certain British officers after 
Burgoyne's surrender. The judge's wife entered so fully 
into his attempt to make the captives comfortable, that 
she finally eloped with the youngest of the unfortunate 
prisoners. In spite of this unfortunate act of disunion 
on the part of his wife, the judge conferred upon his new 
settlement its present patriotic title. 

The flats around Union are very fertile, and one mile in 
width. These extend several miles before us, and through 
them the Nanticoke Creek passes toward Susquehanna. 
We cross its small stream by a wooden bridge. There 
are several mills on this creek in sight. At this point 
we touch the base of the mountains closely, while the 
"flats" still keep on our left. The turnpike from Bing- 




144 GUIDE-BOOK OF THE 

hamton to Owego passes along the mountain also, and 
from many of its high points overlooks the road and 
the river. From one of these points, three miles beyond 
Union, the view is really superb as we look westward, and 
see the round hill near that village rising, mound-like, 
from the vast plain, while immediately below us the Sus- 
quehanna, by one of its graceful curves, sweeps closely up 
alongside of the rail-road, winding thread-like round the 
heights on the left. Leaving this exquisite bit of scenery, 
we soon enter a region directly opposite in character, and 
of almost primitive nature, the only marks of man's pres- 
ence being such as to make the prospect more desolate, for 
those cleared patches on the hill side, with their gloomy 
hemlock and black stumps, in showery weather make the 
prospect appear as though it had been desolated by war 
Presently we catch sight of a long new bridge over the 




Susquehanna, and the busy-looking factories of Apalachin 
on the opposite side of the river. 

Here we leave Broome county and enter Tioga, once a 
part of that now called Chemung. The eastern portion 
of its soil resembles that of Broome, but the northwestern 
abounds in limestone and gypsum. 

Campville (from New York 230 miles, from Dunkirk 
230 miles) is six and a half miles from Union, and will 
become, ere long, of importance, from the quantity of cat- 
tle brought here to be sent to New York. The village 



NEW YORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD, 



145 



is an old-fashioned one, but boasting a hotel which it would 
be well for larger places to imitate in point of cleanliness, 





comfortable beds, and good fare. This station is just equi- 
distant from New York and Dunkirk. 

From Campville a remarkable embanked curve in the 
road follows the river side, and then, rushing across a 
wide plain by a straight section, in length only second to 




that at Delaware, we suddenly come upon the pretty vil- 
lage of 

Owego (from New York 236^ miles, from Dunkirk 223A 
miles). The station and offices here, like the town itself, 
are next in rank to Binghamton, to which Owego bears 
much resemblance, though not possessing the natural ad- 
vantages of position which Binghamton enjoys. It is 



146 



.i ii>i.-j.iiui\ ui' rm-: 




tit I MmlulBffi pE 




named after the creek on which it stands, at its junction 
with the Susquehanna, though Mr. Willis asserts the name 
should be written Owago — that is, " swift river," the very 
translation given by some to the word Chenango. But, 
indeed, there is much uncertainty and fancy in these same 
translations, for we have often heard half a dozen mean- 
ings assigned to some of the aboriginal terms. Like Bing- 
hamton, Owego is placed in a level, fertile part of the val- 
ley, and on the margin of the Susquehanna, here crossed 
by a wooden bridge. The first clearing was made in 1791, 




and the village was incorporated in 1827. Its growth 
was very rapid, its wealth mainly springing from the salt- 
springs of Salina, which staple, with lumber, were sent 
down to Pennsylvania and Maryland. Mills, too, flour- 
ished on the Owego, and finally the rail-road fully opened 
to it an enriching channel of business. It now contains 



NEW YORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 147 

about 2500 inhabitants, and possesses all the appurtenan- 
ces of an important town in its banks, printing-offices, 
churches, and busy hotels. There are also several flour, 
plaster, and woolen mills here. The business done is 
large, and its streets and stores appear always crowded. 
The new part of the town is planted with trees, and lined 
with plank pavements, and ornamented with beautiful 
dwellings, as Binghamton is. This pretty village re- 
ceived a severe loss by the great fire in the autumn of 
1849, when nearly all its large stores, its bank, several 
hotels (and a part of the bridge over the Susquehanna), 
forming one third of the town, were consumed. The loss 
of property, though great, did not prove fatal, for imme- 
diately the energy and enterprise of the citizens caused 
new edifices to appear on the ashes of the burned district. 
The rapid growth of Owego is seen in the fact that, at the 
opening of the road in 1849, the man was present that 
put up the first log hut on the spot where the town now 
stands ! From Owego the Cayuga and Susquehanna 
Rail-road extends to Ithaca, on Cayuga Lake, a distance 
of 30 miles, having a gauge of the same width with the 
parent road ; and by this branch road an important addi- 
tion has been made to the business of the main road and 
to Owego, by the trade opened with the northern counties 
by the lake, that send down their plaster, flour, and other 
produce for the lumber, coal, iron, and other staples of the 
southern. The travel, too, is large, as it furnishes a speed- 
ier and more varied route to those who have heretofore 
traveled by the way of Albany to New York. 

The country around Owego is exceedingly beautiful, and 
affords fine drives. Several of the proprietors of the sur- 
rounding land are paying great attention to improving it, 
so that in a short time it will be one vast plain of the 
highest cultivation. The locality of most interest in the 
neighborhood of the village is Glen Mary, the late rural 
abode of N. P. Willis, whose graceful pen has bestowed on 



148 GUIDE-BOOK OF THE 

its beauties an immortality that will always make the 
spot attractive to tourists. The house has "gone to stran- 
gers," but the attractions of the retreat remain precisely as 
when the late owner penned the "Letters from under a 
Bridge" — where, by-the-way, his humble seat now lies 
unused, and dusty by the showers of "free soil" through 
the crevices of the bridge. The glen, so called, is more 
like a gentle ravine than the species of vale which that 
Highland title designates. A little brook leaps down 
through its thick groves, and near one of its prettiest cas- 
cades is the grave of Mr. Willis's infant child — a fit and 
touching resting-place for it, beside that young and hurry- 
ing streamlet. From a hill just above the house there is 
a superb view, in the middle-ground of which, between 
two sloping outlines of mountains, Owego is very pictur- 
esquely placed. 

The road passes Owego Creek by a substantial bridge, 
half a mile west of Owego, and then resumes the course 
along the valley, varying but little from its general char- 
acter. 

Smithbouough (from New York 246 miles, from Dun- 
kirk 214 miles) is a prettily-situated village, on the right 
side of the road, 10 miles beyond Owego. A bridge cross- 




es the Susquehanna here on the left. As wc proceed on- 
ward, the country evidently becomes less settled and quite 
uninteresting. 

Barton (from New York 249 miles, from Dunkirk 
211 miles) is a thriving little town, beautifully situated, 



NEW YORK ASD ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 



149 



three miles beyond . 
Smithborough. It 
has a respectable 
business, although 
the station is yet 
in its infancy, and 
has several good 
hotels. The old 
road ran through 
this town to the 
north of the pres- - "' 

ent one, and from 

one of its substantial unused bridges we take the accom- 
panying sketch. 





A lew miles beyond Barton we take one last look at the 
Susquehanna, which, however, before leaving, bestows a 
bit of its scenery upon us almost as wild as that on the 
Delaware. It has brought us quite to the edge of Penn- 
sylvania again, but, 
declining to follow 
the sharp elbow it 
PSK thrusts across the 
ijK^fepH " line," we cross the 
SlHiB^ft base of its angle, 
^"^5?!^*$v ;1111 ^ keep due on 
1h rough one of the 




150 



GUIDE-BOOK Ol Hit 



straightest sections and most level plains on the road. A 
little further we cross a high embankment thrown across 
the flat vale through which the Cayuta Creek flows. Two 




bridges afford a passage to its waters, that have caused to 
spring up there, to the north of us, the busy mills that give 
to the village the name of Factoryville. .,. iSb 

Waverley (from New York 266 miles, from Dunkirk 
194 miles), as the station at this place is called, is situ- 
ated in a deep curved cut, half a mile from the end of the 




embankment, and one mile from the old village, that has 
attained great business activity, and is as thriving as any 
community we have passed. 

The neat little village of Waverley stands on a hill to 
the west of Factoryville, though what has caused it to 
spring up there no one can imagine. The station is des- 



NEW YORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 151 

tined to be an important one. Already, since it was 
sketched for this work, has it changed its appearance to a 
degree perfectly marvelous, so that what was but a few 
years since a simple station-house almost hidden by the 
banks of the rail-road, is now the nucleus of a bustling mass 
of stores and public houses. 

Very near the station the traveler will be struck with a 
bare, fiat-topped, regularly-shaped mound, 110 feet above 



the surrounding soil, which is here called Spanish Hill — 
why is an unsolved riddle. Its shaven, regular slope, 
and certain marks on the top, show that at one time it 
had been fortified — possibly during the old French war, 
and thus its foreign birth might have got confounded. It 
is, however, the subject of a legend — an article lamenta- 
bly scarce in these regions, that want the charm of asso- 
ciation to keep one unfatigued while traversing its eternal 
sameness. According to the legend, on one occasion a 
party of six Indians encamped on this hill, with three 
white prisoners carried off* from the massacre of Wyo- 
ming. At night the captives rose and slew five of their 
captors, the sixth escaping. Upon this .simple brave 
achievement has been embroidered a tissue of bloody, su- 
pernatural, and ridiculous stories. It is said that, in con- 
sequence of the triumph of the captive whites, the Indians 
believed no red man could leave that hill alive. The 



152 GUIDE-BOOK OF THE 

pale faces, also, have their awful suspicions about the 
mount, as some swear that the devil himself has heen 
seen running up and down it ; and others, again, helieve 
that Captain Kidd's treasure — those very ubiquitous de- 
posites ! — was buried in its mysterious bosom. 

The extremity of the tongue of land formed by the Sus- 
quehanna dipping down into Pennsylvania is called Tio- 
ga Point, and the west side of it is formed by tlie Che- 
mung River, that here joins the former, and which last, 
thus enlarged, keeps on to the south. Tioga Point is a 
place of great natural beauty and of historical interest ; 
for here not only did the expedition stop that afterward 
desolated Wyoming, but in 1779 it was the rendezvous 
for the forces of Generals Sullivan and Clinton, then in 
pursuit of Brant, just reeking with the blood shed at Miu- 
nisink. The village of Athens — the eternal, omnipresent 
Athens, to be found from St. John's to the Rio Grande ! — 
stands on this point. The Indian name of Tioga was 
Ta-hi-o-ga, said to mean "conjunction of streams," the 
same translation given to many other names. It seems 
strange there should be such a radical difference in the 
dialects of tribes living so near each other ! In addition 
to its natural and historical interest, Tioga Point is the 
outlet of the coal and iron mines of Pennsylvania, that are 
here exchanged for the lumber, plaster, and salt of New 
York. At the station of 

Chemung (from New York 260 miles, from Dunkirk 
200 miles), five miles west of Waverley, we see the Riv- 
er Chemung for the first time, and find it a worthy trib- 
utary to the Susquehanna. The road runs close along the 
stream at this place, and at considerable height above it. 
Its embanked curve makes a noble section for the prac- 
tical man to look at, and, looking back from the end of 
the embankment, the tourist may catch a view worthy of 
the "winding river" itself. The abundance of hemlock 
and the uncultivated appearance of this region show that 



NEW YORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 



153 




lumber and leather are its support. The rafts we saw 
constantly increasing on the Susquehanna, are seen more 
frequently on the Chemung, and the narrow alleys in the 
mountain sides for sliding down the timber, so remark- 
able on the Delaware, are again a frequent feature of 
the landscape. Five miles heyond Waverley we pass 
through a level plain crossed by the Chemung. We pass 
the river by a substantial wooden bridge. Heavy gravel 
cuts and another level plain succeed ; and then, sudden- 
ly turning westward close to the brink of the river, we pass 
the great rock-cutting at the Narrotvs, near Wellsburg. 







.i IDE-BOOK OF THE 




The scenery is now improving, with evident signs of our 
getting into a region more populous. 

The left bank of the river at the " Narrows" is formed 
by a steep mountain, along which the " cut" is made in 
the rock for half a mile, though the right bank is a wide, 




flat meadow of great fertility, ending in the mountains 
half a mile from the river. A wooded island in the Che- 
mung at this point gives more interest to the view of tibe 
Narrows. At the further end of the rocky " cut," in a 
little recess of the hills, stands the old village of Wellsburg 



NEW YORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 



155 



Wellsburg station (from New York 266 miles, from 
Dunkirk 194 miles) is of but little importance. Our road 
now enters a region, however, bearing every token of rich 
land and high cultivation, and after a run of seven miles 
through its extensive farms, we arrive at 

Elmira (from New York 273 miles, from Dunkirk 187 
miles). This is the queen city along the New York and 
Erie Rail-road, and is 
a good specimen of the 
towns that seem to ex- 
hale from the Amer- 
ican soil. Rapid as - - 
has been the growth of 
Binghamton and Owe- 
go, theirs have been as 
a snail's pace compar- 
ed with that of their 
Western rival. Situ- 
ated on the north bank 
of the Chemung, we enter its streets by a covered bridge 
of wood. Adjoining is the bridge over which the turn- 
pike to Owego crosses. The traveler, as he skirts along 
its suburbs to its busy station in the west end, and then 
passes to his hotel through those compact streets, crowd- 
ed with business and intersected by a canal, can hardly 
believe that Elmira, 20 years ago, was a little obscure 
village, though its settlement goes much further back. 
It was settled in 1788 by a Captain John Hendry. At 
that time it was on the only pathway from Wilkesbarre 
to Canada. Its original name was Con-e-wa-ivah, or, 
" head on a pole," from the fact that the head of an In- 
dian chief was found here thus mounted — a good, sono- 
rous title, and far better than the present lackadaisical 
name of the town. Captain Hendry, however, Anglicized 
it into Newton. In 1791 the village was located by one 
Moses De Witt, and, of course, its name was again changed 




156 GUIDE-BOOK OF THE 

— this 'time to Deicittsburgh. Under that title it figures 
in the original plot and conveyance. In that year the 
first frame house was erected. The lands were sold to set- 
tlers at eighteen pence per acre. The town finally re- 
ceived its present title from some gentleman who named 
it after his wife. Though at once made a prosperous set- 
tlement by its advantages as a lumber depot, and the mill- 
seats on Newton Creek, that not far off empties into the 
Chemung, it did not assume remarkable growth until the 
construction of the Chemung Canal in 1830-32. This 
important work, extending 20 miles to Seneca Lake, at 
once supplied an outlet for its lumber by way of the Erie 
Canal, and brought here, in return, valuable exchanges of 
merchandise, to be sent in large quantities into Pennsyl- 
vania by the Williamsport and Elmira Rail-road, already 
in good part constructed, opening into the heart of North- 
ern Pennsylvania. This period may be considered the be- 
ginning of its fortunes, that have flourished since to such 
a degree as to make it now a town containing about 12000 
inhabitants, with factories, churches, academies, printing- 
offices, store-houses, and every other sign of a future city. 
It is situated in a broad valley, rivaling in fertility and 
beauty that in which Binghamton stands. From the 
high mountains half a mile west of Elmira, where the 
river makes a sudden bend, the best view may be had of 
the town and of the valley. From the dark fringe of 
mountains in the distance, the Chemung winds thread- 
like toward us, across the fertile flats, till in the center of 
the picture, where it flings out its broad, bright sheet, 
with its wooded island and bridges, on the right side of 
which extends afar the white and steepled mass of the 
town, and on the left the rich fields and groves, streaked 
by the yellow fine of the rail-road. Nursed in the lap of 
such a fertile vale, every hill of which, even, is cultivata- 
ble to the top, and fed on the tributes of that river and 
tfiat canal, no wonder Elmira at once proved a stout and 



NEW YORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 159 

healthy young giant. These elements of prosperity re- 
ceived their crowning impulse by the extension of the Erie 
Rail-road to Elmira in October, 1849, that has opened to 
this magnificent and fertile valley such a direct and rapid 
communication with the city of New York, and, by the 
Newburgh branch, with the river counties. The station, 
of course, is extensive in its buildings and the amount of 
its business. In addition to the agent's office and freight- 
houses, a large engine-house, with turn-table, renders the 
station one of importance. The rail-roads which diverge at 
this point add to the prosperity of Elmira. The Williams- 
port Road, which goes down into Pennsylvania, is chiefly a 
coal road ; but its extensions into the Keystone State make 
it a route of increasing importance every year, and the coal 
business itself is fast becoming the greatest business in the 
West. The long lines of coal trains on the Erie Road look 
Irom a distance like huge black snakes winding along the 
fields. The Elmira, Canandaigua, and Niagara Falls Road 
diverges here, and passes through one of the most beautiful 
sections of the state to Penn Yan, Canandaigua, and Niagara 
Falls. This is a favorite route with travelers to the Fails, 
and is well worthy a visit from the tourist. 

A very pleasant trip also may be made to Jefferson, 
and thence down Seneca Lake to Geneva. The branch 
road to the lake passes through a beautiful country, 
and the tourist visiting Elmira should not fail to take 
this rapid run by rail and steam to Geneva, at the foot 
of the lake, for a pleasanter sail and a fairer town he will 
not meet on this continent. The whole region abounds 
with the picturesque, that makes the hackneyed titles of 
its fairy nooks and localities disgusting. We have already 
groaned over the vile taste that has rejected the express- 
ive and sonorous Indian titles, and adopted those of the 
ancient and classical world ; but the region round Seneca 
Lake has been wofully victimized by some pedant, that 
has emptied Lempriere's Classical Dictionary upon its de- 



160 GUIDE-BOOK OF THE 

voted acres. Thus the lake itself, which the Indians 
called Ho-ne-oye, or "Hemlock Lake," was dubbed Sen- 
eca, though, if its philosophic depth had to be named after 
a Greek sage, Socrates had a hetter right, inasmuch as he 
is associated with one species of hemlock in his last jorum 
of earthly drink ! Then its shores are so dotted with Ovid, 
Hector Falls, Homer, &c, that we expect to meet with 

"Jupiter and Caysa.v, likewise Nebucknadrca^sar," 

and other classicalities of the " groves of Blarney." With 
such pedantic titles for really pretty places, disgusting our 
common sense and taste, it is refreshing to meet with such 
short aboriginal sounds as Pen-Yati, or the downright 
rough but intelligible Saxon of "■Horse-heads" — which 
means something, and that is the fact that, where the 
village stands, G eneral Sullivan, while encamped here in 
1780, slew his old cavalry horses, and their skulls being 
left to whiten the plain, the place became a Golgotha of 
steeds, and hence its name. The mention of "Horse- 
heads" reminds us of the historical event that fortunate- 
ly invests Elmira and the neighborhood with the sacred 
interest associated with one of the Revolutionary battles. 
We have already spoken of the retreat of the Indians un- 
der Brandt after the bloody defeat of the New York troops 
in 1779, near the Lackawaxen, and the pursuit of the foe 
by an army of 5000 men under General Sullivan, that 
had, under orders from Washington, collected at Tioga 
Point, and then followed Brandt up the Chemung. The 
Indians, that numbered 500 on their retreat, were joined 
by a force of 250 British and regulars under experienced 
officers, and the allies then made a stand at Elmira, just 
in front of the bridge. At this point Brandt command- 
ed the Indians, while the regulars were posted behind a 
breast- work extending to the left as far as the high mount- 
ain westward of the town, and at the base of which New- 
ton Creek flows into the Chemung. The plans of tli3 al- 
lies were ingenious, but could not baffle Sullivan, who, 



NEW YORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 16 J 

sending up the mountains a strong brigade under General 
Poor to turn their left flank, at the same time made a 
furious assault upon their breast-work. After a short 
struggle the allies gave way, and retreated, with great 
slaughter, toward Seneca Lake. Sullivan followed ; but, 
from some cause or other, the victory was not made de- 
cisive by any subsequent dispersion of the Indians, who 
not long after collected in large marauding bands. Sul- 
livan encamped for some time at Horse-heads, six miles 
from Elmira, and there slew his old chargers, as already 
described. The point of his encampment when at Elmira 
was Sullivan's Mills, on Newton Creek, half a mile west 
of the town. 

Besides this Revolutionary incident, Elmira is associated 
with the history of an eminent personage, above all others 
acquainted with strange vicissitudes of fortune, the late 
Louis Philippe, ex-king of the French. We have men- 
tioned that Talleyrand had visited the Chenango Valley 
in 1795, and the revolution in France had also thrown on 
our shores at the same time the young Duke of Orleans 
(then the title of Louis Philippe) and his brothers, the 
dukes of Nemours and De Berri. These royal outcasts 
came to Elmira on foot from Canandaigua, and after a 
short stay they descended the Chemung and Susquehan- 
na to Harrisburg. Since that era, what a change has 
passed over the old wily Protean minister and the exiled 
prince, successively the popular king and the banished 
oionarch ! and within that epoch this (then wild) valley 
aas leaped into a wealth, dignity, and importance that, 
would, as a title, confer honor on king, duke, or baron.* 

We can not close these reflections upon the history and 
growth of Elmira without quoting an amusing incident in 
its earliest history, as told by the ingenious Jo Sykes, and 
which may be regarded as prognostic of the rapid increase 

* For an interesting sketch of this journey, see the Democratic Review 
«br May, 1840. 



162 GUIDE-BOOK OF THE 

of the community. One summer afternoon, in 1788, while 
Captain John Hendry (the first settler of Elmira) and his 
son were at work on a log hut, a man and woman emerged 
from the pathway leading from Newton Creek. The man 
rode ahead, with a basket on each side, holding a young 
baby. The woman was in the rear, on horseback, sur- 
rounded with the goods and chattels of the family. The 
man approached, and asked if a doctor was to be had near, 
and to the colonel's questions replied that his wife had 
hurt herself by stumbling. Learning that no physician 
was in the neighborhood, they passed on further, and made 
themselves the best shelter they could get that night. 
Next morning the colonel again met the man near the 
spot, and inquired after his wife's health. " As well as 
could be expected," was the answer. The following day 
Hendry sent his son to inquire about them, and the boy 
returned saying that they were preparing to start. " But 
the poor woman, my son, how is she?" "Oh!" replied 
the boy, " oh ! she's got another baby, and I guess she 
wants another basket to put it in !" 

Beyond Elmira we cross the Chemung, and pass Junc- 
tion with the Chemung Rail-road, four miles from Elmi- 
ra (from New York 2771 miles, from Dunkirk 1821 miles). 
At this point the road to Jefferson and Niagara Falls di- 
verges from the Erie track. The gauge is the same wide 
gauge, and the cars roomy and comfortable. The distance 
from Elmira to the Falls is 1G8 miles; to Batavia, 119 
miles ; to Canandaigua, C9 miles ; to Penn Yan, 45 miles ; 
and to Jefferson, 22 mdes. 

Big Flats (from New York 2831 miles, from Dunkirk 
1761 miles) is a small station. A village is springing up 
around it. 

Corning (from New York 291 miles, from Dunkirk 
169 miles), 17 miles beyond Elmira. This thriving town 
stands on the south bank of the Chemung River, and con- 
tains about 1500 inhabitants. It is beautifully situated 



NEW YORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 16L> 

at the foot of a noble hill, affording fine views of the rich 
valley. It has several large hotels, a foundry, and fac- 



tories, and is the depot of the Corning and Blossburg Rail- 
road, that extends 40 miles to a rich field of bituminous 
coal, the only one known to exist near the line of our state, 
wherein such coal is in extensive demand. The feeder 
of the Chemung Canal extends from Elmira to this place. 
This is perhaps the greatest lumbering depot we have yet 
met in our journey along this timber region. It is reck- 
oned that twenty-five millions of feet of dressed timber 
are sent down every year from this place ; and thus one 
can imagine what a blessing a rapid transit by rail must 
prove to such a depot. The Chemung is here very wide, 
and is crossed by a covered wooden bridge. Like Elmira 
and Owego, Corning has felt the ravages of fire, almost the 
entire business portion of the village having been burned 
in 1850 ; but, like its burned sisters, it has risen from its 
ashes in greater and more substantial beauty and enter- 
prise. Whole blocks of brick houses stand now where 
before frail frame buildings and shanties only were seen. 
At this point commences the Buffalo, Corning and New 
York Rail-road, which extends to Bath and Avon, and which 
passengers take for Batavia and Rochester. It was com- 
pleted to Batavia in the course of the year 1854, and passes 



16-1 



GU1DE-BIOK OF THE 



through a line country, and is a very important branch of our 
road. Its length is a hundred miles. On the opposite side 
of the river are the two communities of Knozville and 
Centerville. The former is composed of lumbermen, liv- 
ing in shanties. There is an inviting field of labor for the 
missionaries in these lumbering villages. Nearly two 
miles west of Corning the Chemung divides into two forks, 
the northern one of which is called the Conhocton, and 
the southern the Canisteo — the former (so said) signifying 
" trees in the water," and the latter " board in the water." 
One mile from Corning we cross the Chemung by a long 
wooden bridge of several arches. We soon perceive the 
junction of the two rivers. The scenery there is very 
beautiful, and through the large trees that overhang them 
we have taken the glimpse here given of the pretty vil- 
lage of 

Painted Post (from New York 292^ miles, from Dun- 
kirk 167£ miles). This beautiful little retired village is 
by far the oldest settlement in this inland part, and is said 




NEW YORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 165 

to date its existence as far back as 200 years since. Con- 
sequently there is a sober dignity in its appearance, but at 
the same time its hotels, spacious stores, and neat dwell- 
ings prove that it keeps pace with the progress of the pres- 
ent age. It derives its name from the fact that a painted 
post was found here over the grave of a celebrated In- 
dian chief, in the very part of the open area of the vil- 
lage where a high modern post, striped with red and white 
paint, now stands, surmounted with a painted metal out- 
line of an Indian chief with raised arrow, to perpetuate 
the legend. The villagers regard this monument with 
great reverence, and are jealous of all heresy as to the 
true locality of this legend, scorning the pretensions of the 
little community (0 enter ville) between them and Corn- 
ing, which, claiming its locality to be the true one for the 
aboriginal monument, has also erected for itself a painted 
post, and, in order to eclipse the sheet iron statue of its 
bigger rival, has capped its wooden pillar with a board 
having an Indian painted on each side. Now, though the 
Centervillians have thus taken a double chance upon the 
decision of the traveler, yet the more durable effigy, ex- 
clusively metallic, of Painted Post seems to look more au- 
thentic than the perishable tawny that stares at you from 
the painted sides of the Centerville sign-board. There is 
a spurious, parvenu imitative complexion in the latter 
post too — its delicate pink, more like a stick of mint can- 
dy, that makes one regard with confidence its rival's en- 
sanguined hues ! Indeed, the high-metalled hero revolv- 
ing at its top — vane-e&t of weather-cocks ! — seems to utter 
this sentiment as we view him at a distance, his pointed 
arrow looking as if he had his thumb to his nose, and with 
expanded digits he were saying to his rival, "You can't 
come it ! I am the only true and original Painted Post — 
I am !" 

Leaving Painted Post, we cross almost immediately the 
Conhocton. The bridge across this stream was burned down 



L66 GUIDE-BOOK OF THE 

in the spring of 1855, but has been replaced by a substantial 
structure. Immediately below the bridge, in the grove of 
trees visible from the cars, is the point of junction of the 
Conhocton and Canisteo — in fact, forming the Chemung. 

Within three fourths of a mile from the last station we 
strike the Canisteo, and follow its bed, up stream, until we 
reach Hornellsville. This stream will be remarkable to the 
traveler -for the quantity of logs and timber floating in it, and 
the immense piles of lumber on its banks. The hills are 
covered with finer timber than we have seen, and many 
pines abound in the forests. But these are rapidly disap- 
pearing, as tbe well-used timber-slides which we see on the 
opposite hills, and the numberless saw-mills along the Can- 
isteo, fully attest. 

Addison (from New York 301^ miles, from Dunkirk 157f 
miles) is situated at the junction of the Canisteo and the 
Tuscarora Creek. It is the centre of a large lumber trade, 
and is one of the busiest places along the road. The Tus- 
carora valley furnishes an avenue through which a large por- 
tion of the country can approach the rail-road at this place. 
The county of Tioga, in Pennsylvania, also finds a market 
here. Addison was originally named Middletown, and was 
organized in 1796. The view of the valley to the southward 
from the station is pleasant, and the old hemlocks seem to 
stand around it like a row of sentinels keeping guard on a 
treasure. There are several very fine views up and down 
the river between this station and the next, which is 

Rathboneville (from New York 306J miles, from Dun- 
kirk 152 J miles), a small village in a valley surrounded 
by timber lands. A valuable agricultural district south of 
the river here approaches the rail-road. As we go westward, 
the road passes along a terrace cut into the foot of a mount- 
ain, with the Canisteo close at the side of the cars. Many 
fine views may be caught as we now ascend this river in a 
ravine rather than a valley. What land there is is good, but 
it is verv scarce indeed. 



NEW YORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 167 

Cameron Mills is a little station in a valley, forming a 
pleasant view to the eye of the traveler on the express train, 
which he passes swiftly. The tops of all the hills in this 
neighborhood were but a few years since covered with splen- 
did pines, which have now almost wholly disappeared. 

Cameron (from New York 314^ miles, from Dunkirk 145 
miles) stands at the foot of a deep mountain gorge, looking 
like an immense mill-hopper. In this gorge is one of the 
finest places for driving deer now to be found on the line of 
the road, and the sportsman will be abundantly repaid who 
will pass a week here in December. The dogs bring the 
deer down the ravine into the river, and they are shot within 
a hundred yards of the station. 

"We look back occasionally now as we descend the valley, 
and catch the fine views that its openings and closes afford, 
until we reach 

Adrian, a small station of no special importance. It used 
to be said that a tavern and blacksmith's shop at a cross- 
road made a village, but there are no cross-roads here. They 
all run one way, and the only crossings are timber-slides. 

Canisteo (from New York 327^ miles, from Dunkirk 132 
miles). The village lies half a mile from the station on the 
valley, which here widens, and contains some excellent land. 
Our next station is 

Hornellsville (from New York 331 J miles, from Dun- 
kirk 127f miles). This village is situated in one of the wide 
areas of the valley where the hills recede from the river. Its 
natural advantages are great, and as one of the division sta- 
tions on the road, as well as the terminus of the Buffalo and 
New York City Road, it is an important place. The valley 
is fast filling up with houses, and almost every thing now 
visible to the traveler's eye is the growth of the road, which 
was completed to this place in September, 1850. 

At this point diverges the Buffalo and New York City 
Rail-road, which has become almost a part of the Erie Road. 
Trains run in connection, and passengers are sent through to 



1G8 GUIDE-BOOK OF THE 

the West by Buffalo or Dunkirk, as they may prefer. The 
road continues by the side of the Erie track through the vil- 
lage, and then diverges to the north. The track is exceed- 
ingly uninteresting for the first twenty-five miles, at which 
distance from Hornellsville the traveler will observe, from 
occasional distant views, that he is on very high land, and at 
length he will catch a sudden view of a village lying oil* to 
the southwest, in a deep valley, and after skirting the edge 
of the hill for a few rods, the cars bring up at the station at 

Portage. This is one of the most interesting points in the 
United States, and is destined, from its peculiar natural ad- 
vantages, to become the resort of lovers of wild scenery and 
picturesque waterfalls. The Genesee River, whose waters the 
traveler will have crossed who continued on the road to Dun- 
kirk, here enters a deep defile or ravine, across which the 
rail-road is carried on a bridge which is unsurpassed in the 
world by any wooden structure. This bridge is built upon 
thirteen stone piers set in the bed of the river, the stone 
being built sufficiently high to avoid all danger of freshets. 
On these piers the structure is raised, a mass of timber rising 
to the height of 234 feet, on which the track of the road is 
laid. The length of the bridge on the track of the road is 
800 feet. This great work was completed in the year 1853, 
and is undoubtedly the finest wooden bridge in the world. 
It is said to be so constructed that any timber in the bridge 
can be removed and replaced at pleasure. 

The Genesee River enters the ravine only to seek lower 
and still lower depths. Directly below the high bridge, and 
in sight of the windows of the cars, is the first fall, a half 
horse-shoe, about forty feet high, which is a picturesque cas- 
cade. In a still evening, the visitor, standing on the top of 
the high bridge, will hear the sound of this fall coming up 
to him with a faint and distant music, that lends an inde- 
scribable attractiveness to the savage grandeur of the ravine 
down which he is looking. 

A quarter of a mile to the north, where the mill is visible, 



NEW YORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 169 

is the second fall, one of the most beautiful sheets of water 
in America. The river, after falling over the mill-dam and 
spreading out over a level floor of slate-stone, leaps off into a 
deep black basin. The fall is about eighty feet high, and 
when the stage of water is low, the appearance is that of a 
most exquisite vail of lace thrown out in front of a black 
rock. The visitor will find the best view of this fall by 
crossing the bridge above the mill, and going to the point 
directly in front of the fall. The river flows out to the right 
of the basin, so that a position may be taken on a grassy 
knoll directly before, and about two hundred feet from it, the 
"hell of waters" in the basin intervening. A few rods far- 
ther up the hill is a staircase, down which you may walk 
some three hundred steps to the bottom of the ravine, and 
then pull up in a boat to the foot of the fall, and enter the 
Devil's Hole, a hole worn some feet into the side of the per- 
pendicular rock, under the grassy knoll on which you lately 
sat. 

In this ravine the visitor finds himself between two per- 
pendicular walls of slate-stone, more than three hundred 
feet high. He will observe some small streams trickling 
off the top of this wall, and dissolving into blue mist long 
before they reach the bottom. 

A walk of a mile and a half down the bed of the stream, 
if the water be low, or a ride of three miles down the road, 
will bring the visitor to the lower fall, where the river, after 
dashing over rocks, is suddenly compressed into a narrow, 
deep gorge, across which a man might almost leap, and 
after vexing and chafing itself in this confined channel, sud- 
denly turns around a mass of rock, and plunges sixty feet in 
a roaring torrent into a basin below. This is one of the 
wildest views which can be found in America, and will 
amply repay the scenery-hunter for a pause of two days. 

The Genesee Valley Canal passes under the bridge and 
over the high bluff of rock on the east bank of the river at 
the middle fall. It was intended to tunnel this hill, and 

H 



170 GUIDE-BOOK OF THE 

the work was carried on to some extent, but it proved a 
failure, and was abandoned. This will explain to the in- 
quirer the perforations of the hill, which he will see on the 
road as he drives from the hotel to the fall by the circuitous 
road which it is necessary to take in order to reach the bot- 
tom of the valley. 

Portageville, the white village half a mile above the 
rail-road bridge, in the valley, is a small place having 800 
inhabitants and five churches. The canal crosses the river 
by an aqueduct in the middle of the village. From the 
station, going west, the road crosses the high bridge, and 
proceeds to "Warsaw, Attica, and Buffalo. 

Returning to the Erie Road, we proceed westward from 
Hornellsville, and immediately enter the valley of the Ca- 
niacadea Creek, which indeed can hardly be called a val- 
ley, but is rather a gorge of the hills down which the stream 
winds and dashes. Quiet and beautiful views abound along 
this part of the road, and the traveler can not fail to admire 
the village of 

Almond (from New York 336^ miles, from Dunkirk 122f 
miles), which lies in the valley on the bank of the stream, 
and excites the wonderment of the tourist as to how it got 
there, or what it does there. This small and beautiful 
stream, which appears so peaceful in this mountain glen, 
has nevertheless its hours of wrath, and becomes terrible. 
Such was the case in June, 1655, when there was one of 
the most fearful floods here that we have ever known. A 
storm occurred in the night, brief but of tremendous force, 
which in about two hours' time changed the stream into a 
broad and overpowering river. Nothing prevailed to resist 
its headlong course. The entire valley was filled with its 
waters, which rushed over farms, through villages, sweep- 
ing every thing before it, and devastating this beautiful glen. 
In the village of Almond, several houses were removed from 
their foundations, and turned completely around, and carried 
to a distance down stream. Enormous logs of timber were 



NEW YORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 1 7 1 

conveyed to the doors and yards of houses, from which it 
was impossible to remove them when the flood subsided. 
The whole valley felt the flood, from the summit to Hor- 
nellsville. The latter place was literally under water, which 
was three feet deep on the rail-road track and over the en- 
tire plain. Several lives w r ere lost, and a large amount of 
property destroyed. The storm which caused this devasta- 
tion was so confined in its locality that four miles from the 
valley it was not felt, and west of the summit there was no 
unusual fall of water. 

As we proceed up the heavy grade, which is about 50 
feet to the mile, and in a northerly direction after passing 
Almond, we reach the station at 

Alfred, another village on the opposite bank of the Ca- 
niacadea (from New York 340-| miles, from Dunkirk 11 Si- 
miles), which had its share of the flood in 1855, though not 
so much as the lower part of the valley. Just before reach- 
ing this station, a fine view up the valley may be seen be- 
tween the two hills, which almost frame it as a picture. The 
last building in Alfred, as we go west, is a small, square 
house, painted red, and marked in large letters, " Gun House." 
This doubtless is the village arsenal, where the Fourth of 
July is kept under lock and key, to be let out annually. 

We are now approaching the highest point on the rail- 
road, and after crossing the stream by a high bridge and 
embankment, and passing a deep rock cut, we reach 

Tip Top Summit, the highest point on the grade of the Erie 
Road, being 1760 feet above tide- water (distant from New 
York 344^ miles, from Dunkirk 115 miles). A shanty and 
a water-tank make the place appear more lonesome than it 
would be if entirely desolate. 

And now we commence the descent which is to bring us< 
to the valley of the Genesee. There are few signs of civili- 
zation on either hand. A stream of water grows larger as 
we go on, which is one of the tributaries of the Genesee, and 
after passing a pond on the right, we reach 



172 GUIDE-BOOK 01' THE 

Andoveu, a small village (distant from New York 349 
miles, from Dunkirk 11 01 miles) containing some 400 in- 
habitants. The road now resumes its course toward the 
west, and the grade descends 40 feet to the mile. It is to 
be observed here that this is a characteristic of the entire 
road, that the grades are lightest for trains going in the 
direction of the weight of business and freight. We con- 
tinue to descend through a country of unusual wildness, the 
views being painfully alike in their one characteristic of un- 
disturbed forest, the stream by the side of the road increas- 
ing in size, and occasionally crossed by the track on substan- 
tial bridges, until we reach the station of 

Genesee (from New York 357^ miles, from Dunkirk 101^- 
miles). The village is "Wellsville. It is one of the most 
promising places on the western division, commanding all 
the trade of Potter county in Pennsylvania, and of a large 
circle of country. The population, which at the opening 
of the road was scarcely 800, is already nearly 1800, and 
increasing rapidly. We here enter the valley of the Gene- 
see River, which we follow closely for ten miles westward. 
The appearance of the country does not differ from that which 
we have just come rough, except that the timber is some- 
what larger, and less of tliJ Liest has been cut and taken 
away. 

Scio (from New York 301^- miles, from Dunkirk 98 
miles) is a small village, in the town of the same name, on 
a level tract of land, with some line farms around it. The 
valley improves here. 

Phillipsville (from New York 365-^ miles, from Dun- 
kirk 93-J miles) is so named from Hon. Philip Church, whose 
residence stands on the east bank of the Genesee River, which 
we here cross by a very fine bridge. The falls of the river 
afford an excellent water-power, and a number of saw-mills 
are in successful operation. The village is fast increasing, 
and is likely to become a large and flourishing place. The 
course of the road from Hornellsville to this place has been 



NEW YORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 173 

very circuitous, to avoid which a tunnel was at one time 
proposed, but the idea was abandoned ; and the road pre- 
sents the singular aspect of a railroad 460 miles long, through 
a most mountainous section of country, without an inclined 
plane or a tunnel. Our next station is 

Belvidere (from New York 369 miles, from Dunkirk 90^ 
miles), on the Genesee, near the bridge by which the road 
crosses that river. It is well situated for trade with the 
adjoining towns of Angelica and Belfast, the northern part 
of Alleghany county, and portions of Livingston and Wy- 
oming, which naturally tend to the road at this point. 

We follow for a little while the course of Van Campen's 
Creek, so named from Major Moses Van Campen, who was 
an officer in the Revolution, and died at Dansville at the 
advanced age of 91 years. The grade ascends 30 feet to the 
mile. The pioneer settler of this region was Benjamin Cham- 
berlain, who settled at Angelica. He was in the battles of 
Lexington and Bunker Hill, and with Arnold at Quebec. 
He was a native of Massachusetts, and died at Angelica in 
1847, aged 90 years. 

Passing through wild lands again, we approach Friend- 
ship (from New York 373-1- miles, from Dunkirk 85-| miles), 
a village that did not derive its name from the fact that it 
is built very conveniently on one street, and extends nearly 
a mile along that, except in the neighborhood of the station- 
house. The building with the shining cupola is an acad- 
emy. The fields around look well. Population 800. Four 
miles and a half west of this, we reach 

Cuba Summit, where, should the tourist be passing in a 
rain-storm, he may moralize on the slight causes that are 
sufficient to change the destiny of a life. At the point where 
the road crosses the Summit, the rain-drops which fall to 
the east flow into the Genesee Valley, and over the falls at 
Portage and E.ochester, and down the St. Lawrence to the 
bleak coasts of Newfoundland ; while those that fall one foot 
to the west will find themselves running to the Alleghany, 



174 GUIDE-BOOK OF THE 

the Ohio, the Mississippi, and the Gulf of Mexico. A breath 
of wind will change the fate of the drop. From this point 
we descend, and 5 miles farther west we pass the village of 
Cuba, lying on the plain below us ; but, having a long de- 
scent to accomplish before reaching its level, we describe a 
circuit around the place before arriving at the station. 

Cuba (from New York 382-i miles, from Dunkirk 77 
miles) is a lively business place, with fine prospects for the 
future. It is situated on Oil Creek, a -tributary of the Alle- 
ghany River, and these waters flow into the Mississippi. 
We have, in fact, accomplished the crossing of the Alleghany 
ridge. Oil Creek derives its name from a large spring about 
six miles north of Cuba, from which large quantities of bi- 
tuminous oil are obtained. The Indians value it highly; 
and when by treaty they sold the western part of the state, 
they made a reservation around this spring of one mile 
square, which is still owned by the Seneca nation, and 
known on the maps as the Oil Spring Reservation. The 
population of Cuba is over 1000. After leaving the station, 
we pass into CATTAn.\n;is county, so called from a corrup- 
tion of the Indian Gar-ta-ra-ke-ras, said to signify " Stinking 
Shore," and to have been applied to Lake Erie. The country 
is highly elevated, being from 500 feet to 1200 feet above 
the Lake. The streams which pass through it are mostly 
deeply cut in ravines and glens, which are sometimes very 
picturesque and beautiful. It was celebrated for the growth 
of its timber. Trees have been cut here that measured 230 
feet in height, and five of them have been known to furnish 
a hundred " lumberman's logs." 

The Genesee Valley Canal is on the side of the road as 
we go west from Cuba Station, and continues so to its term- 
ination at Olean. 

Hixsdale, a small village, is at the junction of the Oil 
Creek and Ischua Creek, and through the valley of the 
Ischua, which extends north to Erie county, considerable 
business comes to this station. The region now grows pleas- 



NEW YORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 175 

anler, and the land more fertile. We cross the Oil Creek 
and the Canal one mile before reaching the station at 

Olean (from New York 394^ miles, from Dunkirk 64-1- 
miles), which derives its name from the creek on which it 
stands. The village lies a mile south of the station-house 
on the Alleghany River, at its junction with Oil Creek. We 
see the Alleghany for the first time after leaving this station. 
At Olean were made the earliest settlements in this part of 
the country. Before the Holland Purchase Company had 
surveyed their land, Major Hoops, a Revolutionary officer, 
purchased a large tract here from the proprietors. Before 
the construction of the Erie Canal, Olean was on the line of 
travel for emigrants to the south and west, and had thus 
some notoriety. If the river remained closed longer than 
had been anticipated in the spring, provisions would be very 
high at Olean, while the crowd of emigrants awaiting the 
opening increased. At such times — in 1818, for instance — 
flour has been sold here at $25 a barrel, and pork as high 
as $50. In 1806, Olean embraced the whole of Catta- 
raugus county. James Green, the first supervisor, built in 
1808 the first saw-mill ever built on the Alleghany. Lum- 
ber was in that year first taken down the river. In 1813 
no white man lived on the Alleghany below Olean. The 
lumber business here is very great, both over the road and 
down the river, to the great cities of the west and south- 
west. The next station, 3^ miles from Olean, was formerly 
called Burton, but is now 

Alleghany, a little village in a new clearing, and en- 
tirely the product of the Erie road. After passing this sta- 
te*, tion four miles, we enter the ^Indian Reservation, at the 
crossing of Nine-mile Creek. The Reservation is about one 
mile wide and thirty miles long, extending both sides of the 
Alleghany River. We run along the banks of the Alle- 
ghany, which is inclosed between high hills, and in a wild 
country. Civilization has not invaded the Alleghany Indian 
Reservation. An occasional hut, a family of squalid Indian 



176 GUIDE-BOOK OF THE 

children, a squaw dressed in gaudy colors, or a hail-drunken 
Indian, are the only views that will attract the eye of the 
traveler other than the splendid hills, which have a melan- 
choly interest in being still in the possession of the race that 
has held them for a thousand years. No American will 
fail to appreciate this interest, and unworthy though they 
be to possess the lordly heritage of their fathers, no one will 
care to disturb the miserable remnant who starve in the 
midst of that which the hand of the white man would turn 
into gold. Some of them are industrious and thrifty, and 
deserve the comforts they enjoy. The Alleghany Reserva-' 
tion belongs to the remnant of the Seneca nation, who num- 
ber about 700. Two miles west of Alleghany is a deep rock 
cutting, and we pass along the side of the river on a terrace 
cut into the foot of the hill. 

Tunncngwant is a small station on the Reservation, with 
three or four Indian huts near the road. 

Great Valley (from New York 410-| miles, from Dun- 
kirk 48-1- miles) is a "station on the Reservation, and on a 
stream of the same name, and commands the business of the 
valley in which Ellicottville, the county town, is situated. 
The Alleghany River still in view is called the Ohio by the 
Indians, and is doubtless the true Ohio. The grade of the 
road here, and for several miles, is nearly level. 

Bucktooth is an unimportant station in itself, but of in- 
terest as the point at which the rail-road diverges to Erie in, 
Pennsylvania. The grade of this road is visible to the south- 
west of the track of the Erie road. It is 414-L miles from 
New York, and 44f miles from Dunkirk. The road con- 
tinues much the same as before to 

Little Valley (from New York 420|- miles, from Dun- 
kirk 3Si miles). The village is pleasantly situated, and 
commands the business of Randolph, Jamestown, and other 
parts of Chautauque and Cattaraugus. Here we leave the 
Alleghany River and the Indian Reservation, at the mouth 
of Little Valley Creek, which we shall follow up about fif- 



NEW YORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 177 

teen miles. We ascend, toward Dayton, the last upward 
grade before reaching Dunkirk. 

Cattaraugus (from New York 428 miles, from Dunkirk 
31^ miles), formerly called Albion, is a station on the side 
of a hill along which the track is cut. As we leave the 
station we go through a deep rock cutting, and then around 
a spur of the hill. A deep valley or glen opens on the right, 
with a fine hill on the opposite side. Along the side of this 
valley we run for a long distance, and the views down into 
it, over the tops of the trees, or through them, or down the 
occasional gorges that open into the valley across the track 
of the rail-road, are exceedingly fine and picturesque. The 
entire route from the Alleghany River to the Lake is, in point 
of scenery, fully equal to any other part of the road. At 
432 miles from New York we have a view to the right 
which is very extensive, and bounded only by distance and 
the weakness of human vision. Immediately after this we 
leave the deep valley on the right, and cross a piece of cleared 
land, comparatively level, and passing some good farms, have 
scarcely time to see them, when we again enter the forest, 
again to emerge into a clearing surrounded by sentinel trees, 
and at length reach 

Dayton (from New York 437i miles, from Dunkirk 21-J 
miles). This is the point from which we descend to Dun- 
kirk. The summit is a few rods west of the station. The 
grades are various between this and the Lake, never exceed- 
ing 40 feet to the mile. The soil is gravelly, timbered with 
beech, sugar-maple, white-wood, hemlock, and pine, and 
yields abundant crops of every kind, being well watered with 
numerous streams. 

Perrysburg, formerly called Cooper's Corner (from New 
York 440i miles, from Dunkirk 18-| miles), is a station, and 
nothing else. Three miles west of this point we catch our 
first view of Lake Erie, off to the northeast, and a grand 
view it is. There is a deep rock cutting at 444^- miles from 
New York, and we come to 

H2 



178 GUIDE-BOOK OF THE 

Smith's Mills (from New York 447^ miles, from Dun- 
kirk 12 miles). The station is on the hill-side, and the vil- 
lage lower down. This is the last station in Cattaraugus 
county. 

We enter Chautauque county — the last, not least, of the 
southern tier — at its eastern boundary, and pass through a 
highly-cultivated farming district, comprising the towns of 
Hanover, Sheridan, and Pomfret, to Lake Erie. The name 
of the county is a corruption of the Indian word Ots-ha-ta-ka, 
or, as others have it, Ja-da-queh, signifying a land of mist. 
The county was erected in 1808 by dividing Genesee. The 
commissioners, in locating the seat at Mayville, describe the 
place in general terms, and, as if to identify it by a perma- 
nent monument, add that they have planted in the center a 
large hemlock post. All the region between the Genesee 
River and the Pennsylvania line previous to 1800 was em- 
braced in the town of Northampton, and the first tax-roll 
for that town bears date October 6, 1800. The first white 
child born in Chautauque was JohnM'Henry, in 1802. He 
was drowned in Lake Erie while attempting to make a trip 
from the mouth of Chautauque Creek to Erie in a small boat 
after provisions. Chautauque Lake is a beautiful sheet of 
water, 20 miles long and from one to four wide. Its eleva- 
tion is some 730 feet above Lake Erie, and 1300 feet above 
the level of the ocean, and it is said to be the highest navi- 
gable water on the continent. A steam-boat runs regularly 
upon it in summer, between Mayville and Jamestown. 

Chautauque county, although in its infancy, has long since 
ceased to be a " secluded county." Bordering the lake, and 
with easy access to markets, its agricultural resources have 
been rapidly developing. Constant immigration from New 
England and the river country, and other portions of our 
state, have overspread it with a population of some 50,000, 
distinguished for their enterprise and intelligence. The table- 
lands bordering the lake produce all the grains, and the more 
hilly country back of them is mainly devoted to dairy pur- 



NEW YORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 179 

poses ; and the butter and cheese produced in Chautauque 
are not far behind, in quality or quantity, any other county 
in the state. Dunkirk, Fredonia, Westfield, Mayville, James- 
town, Forestville, and Silver Creek are the principal villages. 
The first station on the road in the county, as we approach 
the lake, is 

Forestville (from New York 451-J- miles, from Dunkirk 
8 miles), near the beautiful village of Forestville. This sta- 
tion will accommodate the local business of several towns, 
and soon grow into a flourishing village. Just after leaving 
the station we cross Walnut Creek, deriving its name from 
a black walnut tree, a giant of the forest, that grew on its 
banks near the village of Silver Creek, so immense in its 
proportions as to attract the attention of travelers. In about 
1825 it fell to the ground. Off from the hollow butt was 
cut some 18 feet in length, which was neatly roofed over, 
and arranged for a saloon, so as to accommodate some ten 
or twelve at a time ; and this curious structure was brought 
East, and exhibited in the Atlantic cities, and afterward 
transported to Europe, and there displayed in London, Paris, 
and elsewhere abroad ; and, by way of take-off upon the 
extravagances of European tourists in this country, it was 
represented to be a fair specimen of the forest trees in Amer- 
ica. The eye of the traveler soon looks out upon the broad 
blue waters of Lake Erie, and a pleasant run from Forest- 
ville, through fertile fields dotted over with comfortable 
dwellings, soon brings him to the termination of this " more 
than Appian "Way," at Dunkirk, where ample arrangements 
are in progress to send the traveler on his way. Lines of 
first-class steam-boats receive such as are weary of rail-road 
travel, and speed them westward, while the more impetuous 
and impatient of delay, or those who shrink from the dan- 
gers and perils of the sea, will take the Lake-shore Rail-road 
to Cleveland and the "West. 

There are numerous inflammable gas springs in this coun- 
ty, some of which have been applied to practical and bene- 



180 GUIDE-BOOK OF THE 

ficial purposes, the stores, hotels, and public buildings in 
Fredonia (a pleasant and thriving village three miles south 
of Dunkirk) being lighted by the supply derived from one 
which issues from the bed of the Canadaway Creek, and the 
light-house at Barcelona (16 miles from Dunkirk) being also 
lighted from a supply obtained in its vicinity. It is quite 
probable that, ere long, " natural gas," as it is commonly 
called, will be brought into more general use. 

There are likewise numerous mineral springs in this coun- 
ty, some of which, and particularly those in Dunkirk and its 
vicinity, are held in very high repute, an analysis having 
shown them to possess superior medicinal properties. 

As we approach Dunkirk we see the track of the Buffalo 
and State-line road going off to the right. It follows the 
lake-shore to Buflalo. 

Dunkirk (from New York 400 miles). This terminus of 
the road upon the lake is destined to a rapid growth into 
one of the flourishing cities of the Lakes. It is not without 
some share of early renown. In 1815 or thereabouts, a mil- 
itary road, to be constructed by the state through the south- 
ern tier of counties, was projected by De Witt Clinton and 
others, and, after a personal examination of the lake-shore 
between Buffalo and Erie, the Harbor of Dunkirk, then called 
Chadwick's Bay, was selected as the contemplated termina- 
tion of the great public highway. Subsequently, impressed 
with the idea of its value as a harbor, De Witt Clinton, 
Colonel Elisha Jenkins, Messrs. I. and J. Townsend, and 
others, of Albany, bought land for the site of a town, and 
laid out a village, and called it Dunkirk, after a town in 
France Colonel Jenkins had seen in his travels, as he thought, 
resembling it. The county was at that time a wilderness ; 
the waves of Erie washed a solitary shore ; all improvement 
was conjectural ; and the future, so full of wonders, was 
veiled from their view ; and it is no slight compliment to 
the sagacity and forecast of these early pioneers of Dunkirk, 
that all subsequent examinations and experience have vin- 



NEW YORK AND ERIE RAIL-ROAD. 181 

dicated their wisdom, and established the correctness of their 
conjectures respecting it. 

Government erected a light-house on the western point, 
which affords the western protection of the bay, in 1824 ; 
and subsequently a beacon-light at the main channel, and a 
breakwater across the bay, having expended some $S0,000, 
which, for want of farther expenditure, has gone greatly to 
decay. All careful and minute examination and surveys by 
the engineer corps of the government and of the rail-road 
company, so much interested in forming the best possible 
lake connection, have established the fact that the harbor is 
capacious, accessible, secure, and capable of improvement to 
one of the best, if not the very best, upon the Lakes. 

The village now contains about 800 houses and 4700 
inhabitants, and ample buildings for the large freight and 
passenger business at this point. Individual enterprise is 
also concerned, and active to develop the advantages of the 
lake connection ; improvements are rapidly progressing to 
meet the requirements of business, and it needs no sagacity 
to foresee that Dunkirk will grow into a commercial town 
of considerable importance. 

The site is a beautiful one. The ground gradually rises 
as it recedes from the lake, so that at one mile from the 
shore it is about 100 feet above the level of the water. 
There are no local diseases, but the climate is delightful. 
In summer time the cool breeze from the lake is constantly 
playing ; the sunsets are as glowing and beautiful as those 
of Italy ; the mornings are bright and lovely. There can 
be no more agreeable place for residence. Since the open- 
ing of the road the place has increased very much, but there 
has been much disappointment in the slowness of its growth. 
The rush of passengers to the east and the west is too swift 
to permit them to stop here, and their money goes with 
them. But time will inevitably make this a city of stores 
and splendid residences, though it is evident that the in- 
crease of rail-road facilities is alwavs felt most at the ex- 



182 GUIDE-BOOK OF THE 

tremities of the roads, so that in time the railways of the 
United States will he great connecting links hetween New 
York as the city of the East, and some great city on the 
Pacific. 

From Buffalo or Dunkirk, to whichever point the traveler 
may have gone, he will find the means of conveyance to 
every part of the great West by rail-road or steam-hoat. 

When the Erie Rail-road was projected and commenced, 
the only route to northern Illinois was from Buffalo by 
steamer through Lake Erie, Lake Huron, the Straits of 
Mackinac, and Lake Michigan. Milwaukie was unknown. 
Chicago was a village. It would be claiming too much for 
this road to suppose that the great changes in the West have 
been produced by its construction. But no reasonable man 
Avill hesitate to admit that it has contributed more than any 
other single road or route of travel to these great results. 

From Buffalo the western traveler will go to Detroit or 
Monroe by steamer, or by the cars of the Great Western 
Ptail-road, which crosses Canada to the same point. At De- 
troit the Michigan Central Bail-road will take him to Chi- 
cago, or the steamer will convey him up the lakes to Mack- 
inac and Lake Superior. Or, if he prefers it, he may take 
at Buffalo the cars of the Lake-shore road, which will take 
him to Cleveland and the West, passing through Dunkirk. 

The traveler who has followed the Erie road to Dunkirk 
will take either the steamer on the Lake to Cleveland or 
Detroit, or the cars of the Lake-shore road through Erie 
(much celebrated in 1854) to Cleveland. At Cleveland he 
will take rail to Columbus, Cincinnati, arid the south, or to 
Toledo and the west. At Toledo he is on the Southern 
Michigan and Northern Indiana Rail-road, which will carry 
him to Chicago. At Chicago he takes the Rock Island Rail- 
road to the Mississippi at Rock Island and Davenport, or the 
Illinois Central to St. Louis, or the Galena road to Galena 
and Dubuque. Going up the Missssippi to St. Paul, he will 
take steamer at Rock Island or at Galena. 



NEW YORK AND ERIE KAIL-ROAD. lbo 

We have thus finished the description of this mighty struc- 
ture, and we take leave of the traveler on the shore of the 
Lake, leaving him to gaze his fill over the green waters, 
which nowhere gleam more splendidly than off the harbor 
of Dunkirk. 

Be it forever remembered, that in the year eighteen hun- 
dred and fifty-four, a traveler left the waters of the Atlantic 
Ocean at the harbor of New York, and sat down in the cars 
of the Erie Rail-road. But for the grandeur of the scenery, 
the stern mountains, the dashing torrents, the deep, strong 
rivers that kept his attention constantly occupied, we could 
imagine him sleeping quietly, and utterly forgetful of the 
power that was carrying him swiftly toward the Pacific, un- 
til, at Dunkirk, he saw the waters of Lake Erie. On the 
Lake-shore road, and the Cleveland and Toledo road, he fol- 
lowed them to the Maumee ; he crossed the Maumee, and, 
on the Michigan Southern road, went to Chicago, dashing at 
express speed around the extremity of Lake Michigan. At 
Chicago he took the Rock Island road, and, not having left 
the iron rail, or set his foot to the ground till now, he washed 
the dust of New York from his feet in the brown waters 
that had come over the Falls of St. Anthony. 

Future years will show great triumphs of art and perse- 
verance of intellect, but no age will exhibit a greater con- 
trast with that which preceded it than is presented by this, 
in which such results have been attained, nor do we believe 
that the labor of man will ever produce a more magnificent 
result in filling valleys or hewing down mountains than is 
presented by the Erie Rail-road. 



TABLE OF DISTANCES. 

Note. — The reader will observe an occasional difference of fths 
of a mile between the distances named in the book and the following 
table. This table is supposed to be correct by the most recent and 
accurate measurements. 



Station. 

Jersey ( 'ity 

Bergen 

Hackensack Br. . . 
Boiling Spring.'. . 
Passaic Bridge . . 

Huyler's 

Paterson Junction 

Paterson 

Gravel Switch . . . 

Godwinville 

Hohokus 

Allendale 

Ramsey's 

Suffem's 

Pier 

Piermont 

Blauveltville 

Clarkstou-ii 

Spring Valley .... 

Mousey 

15 Mile 

Suffem's 

Ramapo 

Sloatsburg 

Southjields 

Greenwood 

Turner's 

Monroe 

Oxford 

Newburgh 

Vail's Gate 

Salisbury 

Washingtonville . 

Craigsville 

East Junction .... 
West Junction . . . 

Chester 

Goshen 

Hampton 

Middletown 

Howell's 

Otisville 

Shin Hollow 

Port Jervis 

Turnout 

Rosa 

Middaugh's 

Shohola 

Lackawaxen 

Mast Hope 

Narrowsburg .... 

Nobody's 

Cochecton 

Callicoon 

Hankins's 

Basket 

Lordville 

Stockport 

Hancock 



Dist. from 


Dist. from 


Dunkirk. 


Jersey City. 


459* m. 


m. 


456} " 


2} " 


453 " 


6} " 


450 " 


9} " 


448} " 


11 " 


447* " 


12 " 


443} " 


16 " 


442* " 


16} " 


439} " 


20 " 


437} " 


21} " 


435} " 


23} " 


433} " 


25} " 


431} " 


27+ " 


427 ,V " 


31} " 


445} " 




444} " 


1 " 


441 " 


4} " 


436} " 


8} " 


434} " 


10} " 


433 " 


12 " 


430i- " 


14} " 


427+ " 


17} " 


425} " 


33} " 


424 " 


35} " 


417} " 


41} " 


415} " 


44 " 


412} " 


47 " 


409} " 


49} " 


407} " 


52 " 


424 " 




4181- " 


5} " 


414} " 


9} " 


412 " 


12 " 


407} " 


16} " 


405} " 


53} " 


405} " 


54 " 


404} " 


55 " 


399} " 


59} " 


395} " 


63} " 


392} " 


66} " 


3881 " 


70} " 


383} " 


75} " 


377} " 


81} " 


371} " 


88 " 


366} " 


92} " 


361} " 


97} " 


357} " 


101} " 


352} " 


106} " 


348} " 


110} " 


343 " 


116} " 


337} " 


122 " 


333 " 


126} " 


328} " 


130} " 


323+ " 


135} " 


316} " 


142+ " 


313 " 


146} " 


306} " 


153 " 


300} " 


159 " 


295} " 


163} " 



Station. 

Dickinson's . . . 
Hale's Eddy . . . 

Deposit 

Cascade Bridge 
Canewacta Bridge 
Susquehanna .... 
W. Susquehanna 

Great Bend 

Kirkwood 

Binghamton 

Union 

Campville 

Owego 

Tioga 

Smithborougli . . . 

Barton 

Waverly 

Chemung 

Wellsburg 

Elmira 

Junction 

Big Flats 

Noyes's Switch. . 

Corning 

Painted Post .... 

A ddison 

Rathboneville .... 

Cameron 

Adrian 

Canisteo 

Hornellsville .... 

Almond 

Alfred 

Tip Top Summit 

Andover 

Elm Valley 

Genesee 

Scio 

Phillipsville 

Belvidere 

Friendship 

Cuba Summit 

Cuba 

Hinsdale 

Olean 

Alleghany 

Tunungwant 

Great Valley 

Bucktooth 

Little Valley .... 
Cattaraugus .... 

Turnout 

Dayton 

Perry sburg 

Smith's Mills .... 

Forestville 

Sheridan 

Dunkirk 



290 i 

287} 
282} 
275} 

267} 
268 
259 
253} 
244} 
236} 
229} 
222} 
217} 
213} 
210} 
203} 
199 
193} 
186} 
182} 
176} 
174 
168} 
167 
157} 
152} 
145 
136} 
132 
127} 
122} 
118} 
115 
110} 
107} 
101} 
98 
93} 
90} 
85} 
81} 
77 
70 
64} 
61} 
54 
48} 
44} 
38} 
31} 
25 
21} 
18} 
12 
8 

4} 




Dist. from 

Jersey City. 

169} m. 

171} " 

176} " 

183} " 

192 " 

192} " 

200} " 

206 " 

214} " 

223 " 

229} " 

236} " 

242 " 

246 " 

248} " 

255} " 

260} " 

266 " 

273 " 

277 " 

283 " 

285} " 

290} " 

292} " 

301} " 

306} " 

314} " 

322} " 

327} " 

331} " „ 

336} " 

340} " 

344} " 

349 " 

351} " 

357} " 

361} " 

365} " 

369 " 

373} " 

377} " 

382} " 

389} " 

394} " 

398 " 

405} " 

410} " 

414} " 

420} " 

428 " 

434} " 

437+ " 

440} " 

447} " 

451} " 

455 " 

459} " 



GRADES, ELEVATIONS, &c. 

The following table can not but be interesting to the traveler on 
the Erie Road : 



Names of Places. 


Elevation above 
Tide Water in ft. 


Names of Places. 


Elevation above 
Tide Water in It. 


Suffem's 


281 
455 
895 
436 
997 
1366 
906 
813 
854 
921 


Hornellsville .... 
Tip Top Summit . 

Andovcr 

Belvidere 

Cuba Summit . . . 


1138 
1760 


Otisville Summit . 


1576 
1369 
1677 




1418 


Susquehanna .... 


Great Valley. . . . 
Dunkirk 


1390 
1595 




580 


Corning 





In addition to this table, it will be interesting to remark some of the 
general facts in relation to the road not given in the book : 

The total length, in feet, of bridging on the road is 25,337 feet. 

The total curvature of the road is 22,252 degrees, being an average 
of fifty degrees, or a little over one eighth of a circle per mile. 

The ascent of the road in grades going west is 4323 feet, and the 
descent west is 3732 feet, the total being 8056, or an average ascent 
or descent of 18 feet to the mile through the entire length of the road. 

There are something over 75,000 tons of iron rails in the track of 
tho rond 



TABLE OF ROUTES WEST FROM DUN- 
KIRK OR BUFFALO. 

1. From Buffalo. 

1. Great Western Rail- road across Canada to Detroit, and thence 
to Chicago by Michigan Central Rail-road. 

2. By steamer on the Lake to any of the western cities on Lake 
Erie. 

3. By the Lake Shore Rail-road to Erie, and to Cleveland, and 
other western cities. 

2. From Dunkirk. 

1. Steamers on the Lake to any of the western cities on Lake Erie. 

2. Lake Shore Rail-road to Erie, and to Cleveland, and other west- 
ern cities. 

3. From Cleveland. 

1. Cleveland, Columbus, and Cincinnati Rail-road to Columbus and 
to Cincinnati. 

2. Cleveland and Toledo Rail-road to Toledo, via Norwalk or via 
Sandusky. 

3. Steamers oh the Lake to any of the western cities on Lake Erie. 

4. Various other rail-road routes to parts of Ohio and Indiana, for 
which see advertisements and Rail-road Directory. 

4. From Toledo. 

1. Michigan Southern and Northern Indiana Rail-road, through 
Adrian, Jonesville, and White Pigeon, to Chicago. 

2. Steamers on the Lake to Detroit and other cities. 

5. From Monroe. 

1. Michigan Southern and Northern Indiana Rail-road to Adrian 
and Chicago. This road forks at Adrian, one branch going to 
Toledo and one to Monroe. 

6. From Detroit. 

1. Michigan Central Rail-road, via Ann Arbor, Kalamazoo, and 
Michigan City, to Chicago. 

2. Steamers to Mackinac and Lake Superior. 



06 I 1 

16b TABLE OF ROUTES. 

7. From Chicago. 

1. Rock Island Rail-road, via La Salle and Peru, to the Mississippi 
at Rock Island, opposite to Davenport, Iowa. 

2. Chicago and Burlington Rail-road to Burlington. 

3. Chicago, Alton, and St. Louis Rail-road, via Pontiac, Spring- 
field, and Alton, to St. Louis. 

4. Illinois Central Road and branches, to Galena on the northwest, 
and Dubuque in Iowa, or to Cairo on the south. 

5. Galena and Chicago Union Rail-road to Galena. 

6. Chicago and Milwaukie Rail-road to Milwaukie. 

7. Numerous other roads to various parts of Illinois, for which see 
Rail-road Directory. 



THE END. 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



014 107 440 4 Q 



